mes they had seen a gray, creeping figure at the end of the hall
or heard a piercing cry ring out at midnight, and now this creature was
about to spring upon them and curse them to the bottomless pit. There
was a cry of fright, and in leaping back, the man near the top of the
ladder knocked over the one below, and he in turn the next, so that it
was like when a ball hits the King Pin and the others are sent
sprawling.

The searching party fled in panic and dismay out of the barn, and
nothing could have persuaded them to have set foot in those haunted
walls again, no, not even the threats of the redoubtable Captain William
Broome himself. What the outcome would have been had the captain been on
hand, it is difficult to say, for it was commonly supposed that he was
in fear of nothing.

"Well, what did I tell you, Jack?" questioned Jim smiling grimly. "There
was something on hand sure enough."

"What under the canopy was that thing doing?" exclaimed John Berwick.
"It gave me the creeps, and that is a sensation that does not bother me
very much these days."

"That was the story of a haunted house," replied Jim, "but it is safe
enough now since our friends, the enemy, have fled. Let us go out and
see for ourselves if you aren't too timid."

"Anybody who survives the excitement of following your fortunes for a
few weeks cannot be very timid," replied Berwick candidly.

Jim grinned, but made no reply, and in a few moments they emerged from
the hay into the dusk of the loft. For a few seconds they made out
nothing, and then from the deeper shadow a dim figure took shape, and
advanced towards them. Jim was the nearest to her, and Berwick was very
well pleased that this was so. Jim showed no uneasiness.

"Thank you for driving them away," he said quietly, peering down at the
strange face that looked up at him from its hooded gray, and then she
laughed at him with insane mirth. It would have done severe damage to
less hardy nerves than those which our "hero" possessed. Jim regarded
her with unwavering kindness, which seemed to reach through the gray
cloud of her unhappy condition, much as the clear sun penetrates the
mist.

"The old devil has gone," she volunteered.

"Ah, the captain," said Jim to Berwick quietly.

"She could mean no other," agreed his friend. "Perhaps we had better
follow his example."

"And the young lady?" questioned Jim.

There was a nod of the head, and even while they were speaking, the
woman