“This reminds me of the House of Usher,” said Jimmie, “only it goes up instead of down. Can’t you imagine all these doors opening and closing, and the sound of footsteps on the stairs, down, down?”
Just then Martin opened the door and a gust of wind blew in their faces. Something flashed past that almost made the whole party fall backwards down the steps.
Mollie gave a little shriek.
“Don’t be frightened,” said José, who was standing just behind her. “It is only a bird.”
“Somebody must have left the window open,” exclaimed Stephen in surprise. “I wonder who it was? The servants are afraid to come up here. They believe it is haunted. Lights have been seen at midnight, shining through some of these windows, and the only persons who are not afraid are the housekeeper and the butler, who come twice a year, and clean out the dust.”
The young people found themselves in a vast attic whose edges were hidden by dense shadows. The center was lighted by dormer windows, here and there, that gleamed like so many eyes from the high sloping roof. Scattered about were all sorts of odds and ends of antiquated furniture, chests of drawers, hair trunks, carved boxes and spinning wheels.
“Isn’t this great!” cried Jimmie Butler. “Just the place for handsprings,” and he began to turn somersaults like a professional, while the girls looked on delighted.
“Stop that, Jim,” protested Stephen. “You’ll get yourself filthy and break your neck into the bargain. You are much too old for such child’s play. You’ll have rush of blood to the head and strain a nerve, and heaven knows you’ve got enough to strain.”
“‘In my youth, Father William replied to his son,
I feared it would injure the brain,
But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none;
Why, I do it again and again!’”
sang Jimmie as he wheeled over the floor toward a partition wall which cut off one end of the great room. Over and over he circled, without looking where he was going, until suddenly, bang, his heels hit against the wall.