“Fall on your head then,” answered Spud as he climbed to the window-sill. “Here goes.” He disappeared from sight and there was a thud on the roof of the shed below, followed an instant later by a second as Spud’s weight dropped to the turf. One by one the fellows followed. When it came Claire’s turn he displayed an inclination to hold back. But Sandy reassured him.
“It’s only six feet to the roof, Clara, and about eight to the ground. It won’t hurt you, honest. Go ahead.”
So Claire gathered his courage and made the descent safely and John followed. On the grass in the shadow of the woodshed they waited for Sandy and Ned and then, forming in single file, they entered the park and proceeded along the path which John had travelled that afternoon. Once out of sight and sound of the house, Dutch, who was leading, began to prance and cavort.
“All sing!” he called softly. Instantly the procession started a slow and mournful chant:
“Hush! Hush! Not a sound!
Spirits dread are hov’ring round!
To the Haunted Tarn we go
With our victims in a row.
Dark the night and dark the deed;
Prayers for mercy never heed.
We will drown them every one;
That’s the way we have our fun!
O-o-o-oh!”
The last word was uttered in hollow, shuddering tones that sent a little shiver down John’s back, in spite of the fact that he had been smiling a moment before at the ridiculous sight of half a dozen night-robed forms prancing along in the moonlight. The effect on Claire was apparent. He stopped and turned a frightened face to John, who was following.
“It’s all right, Parker,” said John reassuringly. “It’s only fooling, you know.”
“Yes, but I—I want to go back.”
“No, you don’t. It’ll be fine to have a dip in the pond. Besides, you don’t want them to think you’re scared, do you?”
“N-no.” So Claire went on just as Sandy commanded “No talking there!” The chant began again with another verse, ending as before in the mournful “O-o-o-oh!” The night was warm and the park was very still. A full moon sailed overhead and lighted the path save where the black shadow of an oak fell across it now and then. Walking with bare feet on the gravel wasn’t very pleasant, but aside from that neither of the “victims” was experiencing discomfort. Suddenly there was a sound of tinkling water and the pond came into view, black and silver, with the round moon reflected in the middle of it. The party followed the path to the lower end where the bridge stood. The shadows were heavy there and behind them the brook tinkled off into the darkness. The boys drew up in a semicircle with John and Claire between them and the edge of the pond.