“I don’t know. Yes. Do you think we ought?” Fell replied in a strangely agitated voice.
Mrs. Harrison turned to look at him with a little start of surprise. “Surely you’re not afraid?” she asked, unconsciously revealing the cause of her own reluctance.
“Afraid?” he echoed, entirely misunderstanding her true intention. “Afraid of what?”
“Well—ghosts!” she said.
“But you don’t really imagine, Mrs. Harrison....” Fell began.
“Not for one moment,” she said with determination. She was disturbed and a trifle shocked by the marks of his agitation, which had nevertheless stiffened her own courage. She was prepared now to demonstrate how little she cared for an unexpected coldness in the air, or for white figures moving about at the most unlikely hours on the borders of the lake.
Already the shadows of the other five were stringing out across the meadow, all of them clearly visible in the milky light of the thinly veiled moon. They were moving very deliberately; but a certain deliberation of approach was only decent if they expected to disturb a tryst.
“Well, aren’t you coming, Mr. Fell?” Emma asked sharply.
He sighed and then, “Yes, I’ll come,” he said, in the tone of one who finally commits himself.