Suddenly a dark form, like that of a human being, ascended to one of the windows, as if from without, and plunged into the interior of the house.
To enter by the window is the custom with spirits.
The light was for a moment more brilliant, then went out, and appeared no more. The house became dark. The noises resembled voices. This is always the case. When there was anything to be seen it is silent. When all became invisible again, noises were heard.
There is a silence peculiar to night-time at sea. The repose of darkness is deeper on the water than on the land. When there is neither wind nor wave in that wild expanse, over which, in ordinary time, even the flight of eagles makes no sound, the movement of a fly could be heard. This sepulchral quiet gave a dismal relief to the noises which issued from the house.
“Let us look,” said the French boy.
And he made a step towards the house.
The others were so frightened that they resolved to follow him. They did not dare even to run away alone.
Just as they had passed a heap of fagots, which for some mysterious reason seemed to inspire them with a little courage in that solitude, a white owl flew towards them from a bush. The owls have a suspicious sort of flight, a sidelong skim which is suggestive of mischief afloat. The bird passed near the boys, fixing upon them its round eyes, bright amidst the darkness.
A shudder ran through the group behind the French boy.
He looked up at the owl and said: