Not a sound disturbed the stillness of the night; they slept peacefully until the white sails upon the Patapsco were tinged with rosy hues of the ascending sun.
Before returning to “Friedenheim” they explored the attic room, which was void of furniture or articles of any kind, but found no clue to the mystery, nor hiding place for even a mouse.
As the spectre declined to visit them when the doors leading to the corridor were locked, the next night they decided to leave the door ajar which led into it from the bed-room which Mrs. Farnsworth and Anna had used as a library, and to place a lighted lamp near the steps leading to the attic rooms. Ralph, with rope behind him, lay down upon the lounge in that room and James occupied the room adjoining.
He was too excited to sleep, but Ralph was in the land of dreams when something like an icy hand touched his forehead. He sprang up, rope in hand, and followed the little lady in black who had glided through the door and ascended several steps toward the attic room, threw the noose about her neck and brought her to a halt so suddenly that she had to cling to the banister to keep from falling. A piece of marble which had simulated the cold hand fell to the floor, the lace cap and gray curls fell back, disclosing a head of glossy black hair, and the dough mask fell off, showing the humiliated face of Jerusha Flint.
The boys stood appalled at the discovery, and Jerusha shed a torrent of tears, but whether from shame or grief or anger they had no means of knowing.
She spoke no word, but like a veritable spectre, glided up the attic stairs and was seen no more. Only the sound of the shutting of a distant door in some part of the large building could be faintly heard, then the boys locked the three doors and slept in the bed-room until morning.
It is doubtful if any news could have given more genuine astonishment to the home circle at “Friedenheim” than that of Miss Flint playing the rôle of a spectre, and the motive that prompted her was quite as much of a mystery. But before the day closed the matter was made plain by Miss Jerusha, who sent a humble message to Mrs. Courtney to come to see her, as she desired earnestly to converse with her and was too ill to leave her cottage.
Mrs. Courtney went immediately, and although Miss Jerusha expected her, she could scarcely raise her eyes to her neighbor’s face when she stood beside her, so humiliated was she as she lay pale, yet feverish, upon the lounge.
“I don’t know what you can think of me, Mrs. Courtney,” she said, as she signified her wish for her visitor to take the seat beside her, “but I will tell you the exact truth.”
Mrs. Courtney took the chair in silence and Miss Flint, after a pause, resumed.