n wonder at the sight when I heard a short, quick sob
at my side.

"What is it, Esther, dear?" I asked, looking down at my companion.

"I feel so frightened. Oh, John, John, take me home, I feel so
frightened!"

She clung to my arm, and pulled at my coat in a perfect frenzy of fear.

"It's all safe, darling," I said soothingly. "There is nothing to fear.
What has upset you so?"

"I am afraid of them, John; I am afraid of the Heatherstones. Why is
their house lit up like this every night? I have heard from others that
it is always so. And why does the old man run like a frightened hare if
any one comes upon him. There is something wrong about it, John, and it
frightens me."

I pacified her as well as I could, and led her home with me, where I
took care that she should have some hot port negus before going to bed.
I avoided the subject of the Heatherstones for fear of exciting her,
and she did not recur to it of her own accord. I was convinced, however,
from what I had heard from her, that she had for some time back been
making her own observations upon our neighbours, and that in doing so
she had put a considerable strain upon her nerves.

I could see that the mere fact of the Hall being illuminated at night
was not enough to account for her extreme agitation, and that it must
have derived its importance in her eyes from being one in a chain of
incidents, all of which had left a weird or unpleasant impression upon
her mind.

That was the conclusion which I came to at the time, and I have reason
to know now that I was right, and that my sister had even more cause
than I had myself for believing that there was something uncanny about
the tenants of Cloomber.

Our interest in the matter may have arisen at first from nothing higher
than curiosity, but events soon look a turn which associated us more
closely with the fortunes of the Heatherstone family.

Mordaunt had taken advantage of my invitation to come down to the
laird's house, and on several occasions he brought with him his
beautiful sister. The four of us would wander over the moors together,
or perhaps if the day were fine set sail upon our little skiff and stand
off into the Irish Sea.

On such excursions the brother and sister would be as merry and as happy
as two children. It was a keen pleasure to them to escape from their
dull fortress, and to see, if only for a few hours, friendly and
sympathetic faces round them.

There could be but one result