ed at the occupant of the bed with silent menace.

[Illustration: "Near the bed, almost within reach of her hand, stood
_Madeline Payne_, all swathed in white!"--page 252.]

The spell was broken. The lips of Miss Arthur were unclosed, and
shrieks, one following the other in rapid succession, resounded in the
ears of even the most remote sleepers.

With the utterance of her first yell, Miss Arthur had made a desperate
plunge to the further side of her bed, away from the specter; and,
turning her face to the wall, shut out thus the appalling white
vision.

Having once found her voice, Miss Arthur continued to clutch at the
bed clothes, glare at the wall, and shriek spasmodically, even after
her "inner consciousness" must have assured her that the room now held
others beside herself and the ghost, supposing it to be still on the
opposite side of the bed.

Cora, in a state of wild _deshabille_; John Arthur, ditto, and armed
with a cane; Susan and Mary, half in the room and half out; then
Celine Leroque, apparently much frightened, without knowing at what.

A volley of questions from the master of the house, and a return of
courage to the mistress. But Miss Arthur only gathered herself
together, took in a fresh supply of breath, and embarked in another
series of howls.

Nothing was amiss in the room; it could not have been a burglar. The
night lamp was burning dimly behind its heavy shade; on the table were
the fragments of Miss Arthur's lunch; and Mr. and Mrs. Arthur had
found easy access through the closed, but unbolted door.

After a time, a long time, during which Cora and Celine administered
sal volatile and other restoratives, Mr. Arthur douched her with oaths
and ice water, and the servants whispered in a group, the maiden found
voice.

It was a very feeble voice, and it conveyed to her audience the
astounding intelligence that she had seen a ghost--Madeline Payne's
ghost.

Upon hearing her story, John Arthur seemed at first a little startled.
But Cora only laughed, and Celine, glancing significantly at the lunch
table, said, with a slight smile:

"Mademoiselle has nerves, and she may have lunched heartily before
retiring."

John Arthur strode across the room and viewed the _debris_ of
luncheon. "Humph!" he grunted. "Oysters and salads, potted meat and
pastry; strong coffee and lemon syllabub with brandy. Good Lord, I
don't know what should have kept the contents of an entire cemetery
from sweeping do