“Listen!” Jeanne held up a hand. Out from the silence of that long room came the Dong! Dong! of the ancient clock striking the hour. “This—” Her tone was deep and low. “This is my hour of enchantment. This—”
Who knows what she was about to say? She broke off to sit listening, stiff with sudden emotion. From the far corner where the darkness reigned came the strange, church-like notes of a reed organ.
The melody that came rolling back to them was strange, a wild, weird something, perhaps from the past—a forgotten song no living mortal had ever heard.
It continued for a full five minutes. And in all that time not one of them moved or spoke.
When the last note died away, the stout Florence found her courage returning. “I’m going to see.” Her voice reached them in a low whisper.
Dropping on hands and knees, she disappeared into the dark.
“Who—who can it be?” Jeanne whispered to Jensie.
“There is no one.” Jensie’s words were scarcely audible.
After that they sat in silence until with a start Jeanne felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Oh!” She sprang to her feet.