Second watch, however, passed quite as usual, save for the little air of uncertainty and uneasiness that made itself manifest in our fondness for each other’s company, our frequent glances into the shadows, and one or two broken thermometers owing to the sudden crashes of the wind. The light flickered once as if about to go out but mercifully did not do so. I might add that the prevalence of broken thermometers was one of the minor troubles of that week; a thermometer is an easy thing to slip from one’s fingers, especially when shaking it, and it is not surprising that Dr. Balman had had to order new thermometers for every wing in St. Ann’s.
The hours seemed very long, particularly when it occurred to me that if Corole and Dr. Hajek expected to carry out their scheme that “day” there were only a few hours left in which to do so. Of course, I had Corole safely locked up and if her coming to St. Ann’s in well-simulated terror to beg a refuge was actually, as I half suspected, only a part of their plan, why then I had stopped any further activity on her part. But I could not wholly believe that Corole’s coming had been prearranged; her panic had been too genuine.
We were not very busy, so I had plenty of time to think. More than once I caught myself eyeing Maida as she went quietly about her business.
Once, when we were both at the desk, engaged in a desultory and half-hearted conversation, footsteps padding softly along the corridor back of us caught our attention and I turned simultaneously with Maida. I noted that her eyes flared black as she whirled and her lips were a quick, set line, and wondered if my own face showed such immediate alarm. However, it was only Olma Flynn, advancing to tell me through chattering teeth that she was sure there was Something in Room 18. I was startled for a flash, though at once I realized that it was O’Leary, and Maida went white though she held her shoulders straighter than ever.
I managed to calm Olma, though she clung to her point with a firmness that in my heart I labelled plain mule stubbornness.
“If we are all murdered before morning, Miss Keate, it will be your fault,” she said at last.
“Nonsense! If it is a ghost, as you seem to believe, you need not be alarmed. Ghosts can’t do anything but moan around the corners.” It was unfortunate that just then the wind swept through the draughty old corridor with a most realistic moan, upon which Olma turned green and vanished into the diet kitchen. It was this, I think, that gave rise to a swiftly travelling tale that Room 18 was haunted, a tale that the south wing has never yet been able to live down.
Thinking to warn O’Leary that he must be more circumspect in his behaviour if he wished his presence in that ill-omened room to remain a secret, I watched my chance to slip unobserved into Eighteen. Dawn was creeping into the room by that time and the furniture loomed up dark and black in the cold half-light. The room was quite empty of human presence, though to my tired nerves it seemed that there might be other presences. I shrugged aside the unwelcome thought. A glance at the window showed me that the bolts had been slipped and the screen opened. I had no doubt that O’Leary was making use of that low window as others had done. I resisted a childish impulse to fasten the bolts against his return and returned to the corridor.
With the tinny sound of the breakfast bell away down in the basement, the straggling through the corridors of the day nurses, freshly uniformed if a trifle gray about the eyes, the fragrant smell of coffee floating through the halls, my vigilance relaxed a bit. The night was past and so far as I knew nothing out of the way had occurred. Knowing Corole to be a late sleeper I did not go immediately to my room to release her. Instead I followed Maida and Olma and the student nurse downstairs to the dining room. It was a sorry meal with buckwheat cakes which I despise and which, besides, give me hives, and Miss Dotty relating a very lurid dream and dissolving into tears under Melvina’s interpretation. The tears dripped dismally down Miss Dotty’s inefficient nose, Melvina enlarged upon the meaning of dreams, and I found that I had sugared my coffee twice. I was glad when the meal was over.