Has you gent’men seen everything in dis heah room what you would like to?” She gave a low, cheerful, seductive kind of laugh as she asked the question, resting her hands on her hips and looking at first one and then the other, “’cause we’ve got a pow’ful lot of rooms in dis heah house, and if you wants to get back to your Christmas-tree I reckon we’d better be a movin’.”
The two men looked at her as a fresh kind of curiosity and laughed. “Oh, I guess there isn’t much use in hurrying,” one answered; “it’s right uncomfortable to be hidden somewhere, and you all might as well make up your minds to give up the young gentleman; he can’t possibly escape, you know. We’ve got men all outside the house. It would be dangerous for him to try; he might get shot.”
Sallie Tom clutched her hands angrily together under her apron. She had an intense desire to wring their necks, the little whippersnappers, she muttered under her breath. Give up Mars’ Bobbie? Not as long as a drop of blood was in her veins; but outwardly she gave no sign. “Yes, I seen you is got a pow’ful lot of men outside,” she said, chuckling as if highly amused. “I counted you when you comed up, an’ dere’s six of you; you two is in heah, an’ de other fo’ is at de fo’ corner’s of de house. Lordy, gent’mens, you all sutny don’t know nothin’ ’bout dis heah place when you comes up wid six men to frighten a lot of women folks. Dis heah place is ‘White Point,’ an’ we all is jes ez used to seein’ men ’round heah ez flies in summer. Why, our Mars’ Tayloe didn’t think nothin’ o’ callin’ up a hundred head o’ niggers at a time an’ givin’ em eggnog an’ sich on Christmas. You all oughter bringed up suppin’ what would a-looked like suppin’ when you was a-comin’; but I don’t s’pose you all is frum anywhar near dese heah parts, an’ cose you didn’t kno’ no better.” Sallie Tom’s cheerfully condescending tone was irresistible.
The two men laughed in spite of themselves. “We acknowledge our ignorance, old woman,” the Lieutenant answered, “and now, as I don’t think our friend is in any of these chairs or sofas, we would like to move on.” Sallie Tom opened the door and they walked into the hall. A cheerful light from the library streamed out, and the laughing and talking sounded as if the inmates were entirely uninterested in the search being made through the house. The two men stopped instinctively at the door and bowed politely. Dorothy sprang from her chair and came toward them, also Anne Carter, and whatever was in their hearts, they concealed it well.
“You wish to search these rooms?” said Dorothy, pleasantly. “Don’t hesitate to do so. Our pastor is taking his Christmas tea with us, also a few other friends, and that is why I cannot go with you over the house—unless they will excuse me. Let’s go anyhow, Anne,” she added, turning quickly to her friend. “I’ve told you it would be useless, however,” she went on. “Mr. Tayloe left here five hours ago; but of course you must go through the house, and we might show you some nooks and corners Sallie Tom would possibly leave out.” The two men glanced at each other, then accepted Dorothy’s offer with thanks. It would certainly do no harm to have two pretty girls go along. They looked around the comfortable, homelike rooms a little longingly; how cosy everything was, and how good that coffee smelt! One of them involuntarily sniffed it and Mrs. Tayloe saw it, and her hospitable soul forgot for a moment they were soldiers hunting for her boy. They were some other mother’s boys, and she came forward in her sweet, gracious way, full of such quiet dignity that the rudest boor would have felt its power. “It is very cold,” she said, interrupting them as they stood talking together at the door; “will not you gentlemen have a cup of coffee?” The Lieutenant and his Sergeant drew back a little, as if they had not heard aright. They had read a great deal about Southern hospitality, but it quite upset them to be offered it under such circumstances. Sallie Tom had drawn Dorothy aside, and was saying something in an undertone; but the latter had heard Mrs. Tayloe’s question, and she answered it for them.
“Of course they will,” she broke in. “I’m sure they are hungry and thirsty too, and I know they will have some supper after we get through the search; but we must do that first. Sallie Tom will lead the way, the gentlemen will follow, and Anne and I will bring up the rear.”
Laughingly they left the room, and faithfully did Sallie Tom pilot them into every nook and corner. Every closet was opened and every big box explored. Those left down-stairs in the library listened with beating hearts and strained ears to every step, and when at last they were heard mounting the garret stairs Mrs. Taylor sank helplessly in her chair and buried her face in her hands. Down through the halls sounded the apparently merry laughter of the girls, joined in now and then by the two young officers, who were becoming momentarily more and more impressed that they were making guys of themselves, and were being laughed at good-naturedly for their pains. Notwithstanding all this, however, very faithfully they performed their part, and not a nook lacked investigation. When they reached the garret stairs Sallie Tom began to mount as unconcernedly as she had shown every other part of the house. She held her lamp high in hand and clattered noisily up the steps, as if to give fair warning to the men hidden in the loft that their very breath must be held during the search. The men followed a little indifferently. It was evident they were having their trouble for nothing, and they were anxious to get through. Anne and Dorothy, following behind, looked at each other with white faces. Surely the beating of their hearts would be heard if they stopped laughing and talking. The farce must be kept up a little longer.
“I suppose this is where the family ghosts are kept,” said the younger of the two men, as they began to mount the steps. “I should think, however, they would soon be pretty well frozen out up here.”
“Not a bit of it,” answered Dorothy, laughing a little recklessly, “we have some most interesting cases in the family, and this is their principal scene of action. This is my first visit up here after dark since I was so frightened when a child. It always gives me the creeps to think of the place at night.”
“Then we feel highly honored at your presence with us,” answered the Lieutenant, making a profound bow, as they reached the landing at the top of the steps. “I wish I knew some of these wonderful ghost stories that I hear are peculiar to this part of the country, and I would give something pretty to see one of your ghosts.”
Sallie Tom pushed open the door, and they all entered. The long, low-pitched room with its four dormer windows, stretched out into huge weird dimensions as they stood silently for a moment looking around, and then the men slipped farther in. Sallie Tom followed and held her lamp high in hand, and the light fell so as to cause the opening to the loft to be cast in such a shadow that it could not be distinguished from the rest of the wall. All around the room were great packing-trunks and cases, and from ropes stretched from side to side hung various pieces of old clothing and bed covering. The room was completely dark save for the stream of light cast by the lamp, and a gruesome, uncanny feeling crept over them all, as the men wandered around the room, poking behind this and that, and turning over old broken chairs and odd bits of furniture. Anne touched Dorothy on the arm and pointed to a sheet near by.
“Let’s frighten them,” she whispered. “I’m positive that little yellow-haired thing smells a rat; he’ll find that hole in the wall yet.”
Dorothy nodded and clutched Sallie Tom by the dress. She pointed to Anne, who was softly drawing the sheet towards her. “Playing ghost!” she muttered under her breath; “you shriek and run with the lamp.”
Dorothy walked over to the two officers and began to talk. “This used to be our happy hunting-ground when we were children,” she began; “we always played up here on rainy days, and such dressing in antique garments I am sure you have never seen—unless,” she added, politely, “you had a similar garret to play in.” They were getting dangerously near the entrance to the loft. “We got frightened by what we thought was a ghost once, and we never cared to play here again. What—what, oh, what is that!” she cried, clutching the sleeve of one of the men. A terrific shriek from Sallie Tom, as she rushed wildly down the steps with the lamp, made their blood run cold. “Oh, Lordy, Lord Gord A’mighty!” she yelled, pitching like something wild, on, down, down, until she reached the library. “De ghostes done come like de trumpet bin a’blowed,” she shrieked. “Oh, Lord, don’t mix us up wid dem inturferin’ Yankees. Lord A’mighty, hab mercy on us, dey come a’meddlin’ fust. Oh, Lordy, Lordy!” they could hear her shriek, but fainter and fainter as she neared the room below. The two men turned quickly at the terrific sound of Sallie Tom’s voice, and though the room was inky black save for the dim rays that came from the dormer windows, they saw creeping towards them a flapping, white-winged object. Both of them caught Dorothy with one hand, while with the other they grasped their pistols. A muffled laugh broke from under the sheet, and in a second it was dropped and Anne shook it off gaily. “Now confess you were frightened,” she cried, merrily. “I do believe you were going to shoot me. I didn’t think of that when I put the sheet on, but that is why I dropped it in such a hurry. Did you ever hear such a shriek as Sallie Tom gave? She’ll never forgive me for this—she’s such a firm believer in ‘ghostes.’ I wish she had left the lamp behind; it’s as dark as Egypt up here, and I’m almost frozen.” Dorothy had dropped down on the top of a chest, and apparently was quivering in every limb. The men broke into a relieved laugh as they put their pistols back into their belts.
“It was pretty cold up here before the ghost appeared,” said the Lieutenant, “but it makes me hot all over to think how near I came to shooting you. Great heaven! suppose I had!” The man’s voice shook in spite of himself, and he wiped his face with his handkerchief.
“You’re a plucky ghost,” said the Sergeant, still trying to get his pistol fixed in his belt, “and I’m honest enough to acknowledge you frightened me silly.” His blood was still tingling from the touch of Dorothy’s hands—he wanted to get down to the light where he could see her face again, and he made a move towards the door. Dorothy was laughing now, a little foolishly.
“It was stupid in me to think it was really a ghost,” she said, rather apologetically, “but Anne ought not to have frightened us like that. Are you gentlemen through?” she added, “or shall I call Sallie Tom to bring back the lamp?”
“I don’t think she would come if you called,” answered the Lieutenant. “I guess we have taxed your patience quite long enough. Can I help you down the steps?” He turned to Anne as he spoke and held out his hand to lead her down. The Sergeant did the same for Dorothy, and soon they were back in the library, where amidst much laughter they explained the cause of Sallie Tom’s flight. “She is out in the kitchen now, trying to get supper,” said Mrs. Tayloe, breathing freely once more; “but I don’t believe you can persuade her you are not the genuine article, my dear.” She pressed Anne by the hand, and the latter understood the signal. “Poor old Sallie Tom,” she answered, getting up, “I must go and make peace with her, or we won’t have anything much for supper, I’m afraid, and I’m simply, absolutely starving.” She went out of the room with a mock courtesy, and they heard her calling to Sallie Tom to “look out! the ‘ghostes’ were coming!” And then the kitchen door banged.