Everything looked so eerie and unfamiliar in the moonlit darkness that Blanche began to wish she had not come; but as the expedition had been her suggestion from the first, she felt in honour bound to proceed.
Up the stairs they went, and round the gallery. Not a sign of anything unusual did they discover. There was no light, no sound of any kind. Something flitted across Blanche's face; she gave a little stifled scream.
"Oh! what can that be?" she panted.
Marjory turned and held up the candle. It came again, and she saw what it was.
"It's only a bat," she said reassuringly; "it won't hurt you."
"A bat!" echoed Blanche. "Oh, how horrible! They bite, don't they?"
"Oh no, they are quite harmless. Dear little soft things they are when you see them in the daylight, although they aren't pretty."
"O Marj, I don't like it; you won't let it come near me, will you?" And Blanche clung to her friend.
"No, you needn't be frightened; I'll keep it away."
Marjory could not exactly understand Blanche's fears, but she saw that they were real. She could see nothing to be afraid of in a tiny little bat, but the feeling that she was able to protect some one weaker than herself made her very tender towards her friend.