The boys within the tree made no other demonstration till Fletcher had read the following verse:—
"Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;
'Tis the wind, and nothing more.'"
Here an indescribable, unearthly noise was heard from the interior of the tree, like the wailing of some discontented ghost.
"Good heavens! what's that?" ejaculated Fletcher, turning pale, and looking nervously around him.
It was growing late, and the branches above him, partially stripped of their leaves, rustled in the wind. Fletcher was somewhat nervous, and the weird character of the poem probably increased this feeling, and made him very uncomfortable. He summoned up courage enough, however, to go on, though his voice shook a little. He was permitted to go on without interruption to the end. Those who are familiar with the poem, know that it becomes more and more wild and weird as it draws to the conclusion. This, with his gloomy surroundings, had its effect upon the mind of Fletcher. Scarcely had he uttered the last words, when a burst of wild and sepulchral laughter was heard within a few feet of him. A cry of fear proceeded from Fletcher, and, clutching his book, he ran at wild speed from the enchanted spot, not daring to look behind him. Indeed, he never stopped running till he passed out of the shadow of the woods, and was well on his way homeward.
Tom Carver and Hiram crept out from their place of concealment. They threw themselves on the ground, and roared with laughter.
"I never had such fun in my life," said Tom.
"Nor I."
"I wonder what Fitz thought."
"That the wood was enchanted, probably; he left in a hurry."