It’s what we agreed.”
He picked up his stick and went to the cupboard for the candle. A
limp form rose shakily beside him breathing hard, and he heard a voice
say very faintly something about being “ready to come”. The woman’s
courage amazed him; it was so much greater than his own; and, as they
advanced, holding aloft the dripping candle, some subtle force exhaled
from this trembling, white-faced old woman at his side that was the
true source of his inspiration. It held something really great that
shamed him and gave him the support without which he would have proved
far less equal to the occasion.
They crossed the dark landing, avoiding with their eyes the deep
black space over the banisters. Then they began to mount the narrow
staircase to meet the sounds which, minute by minute, grew louder and
nearer. About half-way up the stairs Aunt Julia stumbled and
Shorthouse turned to catch her by the arm, and just at that moment
there came a terrific crash in the servants’ corridor overhead. It was
instantly followed by a shrill, agonised scream that was a cry of
terror and a cry for help melted into one.
Before they could move aside, or go down a single step, someone
came rushing along the passage overhead, blundering horribly, racing
madly, at full speed, three steps at a time, down the very staircase
where they stood. The steps were light and uncertain; but close behind
them sounded the heavier tread of another person, and the staircase
seemed to shake.
Shorthouse and his companion just had time to flatten themselves
against the wall when the jumble of flying steps was upon them, and
two persons, with the slightest possible interval between them, dashed
past at full speed. It was a perfect whirlwind of sound breaking in
upon the midnight silence of the empty building.
The two runners, pursuer and pursued, had passed clean through them
where they stood, and already with a thud the boards below had
received first one, then the other. Yet they had seen absolutely
nothing—not a hand, or arm, or face, or even a shred of flying
clothing.
There came a second’s pause. Then the first one, the lighter of the
two, obviously the.pursued one, ran with uncertain footsteps into the
little room which Shorthouse and his aunt had just left. The heavier
one followed. There was a sound of scuffling, gasping, and smothered
screaming; and then out on to the landing came the step— of a single
person treading weightily.
A dead silence followed for the space of half a minute, and then
was heard a rushing sound through the air. It was followed by a dull,
crashing thud in the depths of the house below—on the stone floor of
the hall.
Utter silence reigned after. Nothing moved. The flame of the candle
was steady. It had been steady the whole time, and the air had been
undisturbed by any movement whatsoever. Palsied with terror, Aunt
Julia, without waiting for her companion, began fumbling her way
downstairs; she was crying gently to herself, and when Shorthouse put
his arm round her and half carried her, he felt that she was trembling
like a leaf. He went into the little room and picked up the cloak from
the floor, and, arm in arm, walking very slowly, without speaking a
word or looking once behind them, they marched down the three flights
into the hall.
In the hall they saw nothing, but the whole way down the stairs
they were conscious that someone followed them; step by step; when
they went faster IT was left behind, and when they went more slowly IT
caught them up. But never once did they look behind to see; and at each
turning of the staircase they lowered their eyes for fear of the
following horror they might see upon the stairs above.
With trembling hands Shorthouse opened the front door, and they
walked out into the moonlight and drew a deep breath of the cool night
air blowing in from the sea.
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