But after that brief pause the muffled patter passed on, it became more and more indistinct, and again all was still.
What a relief! it was perhaps nothing after all—imagination, hallucination probably, but nothing real—nothing any way to fear.
Stay though! The voice, a voice, another voice unheard before, spoke in murmured accents, and then a deeper bass than that which had previously called shouted again and again in muffled reply.
This was too horrible!
It must be a ghost; nay, not even a single ghost but two, and what chance had one poor living woman and a sleeping girl against such odds from the spirit land?
The whole thing, even at Nyslott, seemed too terribly impossible; so I pinched myself to make sure I was awake, only to hear the awful footsteps—duplicated—coming back! By this time my sister was awake, and lazily asking "What is the matter?"
"H-st-st," I answered under my breath.
Thud, thud—the mysterious footsteps drew nearer and nearer—
They were almost again at our door, when absolutely petrified by fear, and clammy by reason of the awful Nyslott stories we had been told, we twain sat up straight feeling creepy and cold all over.
The footsteps came on apace, and we held our breath, thinking our time had come; but was it? could it be? Yes, yes, thank heaven it was! We recognised the voice of our own custodian talking softly to his comrade.