econd and surely
would soon be heard by all the house. Under the circumstances nobody
would hesitate to break that hateful lock to learn the racket's cause;
yet what would happen to him when this was discovered?

What, indeed! Yet, strangely enough, in all his trepidation there was
no thought of Dorothy.

CHAPTER X

OPEN CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL

A housemaid, passing through the disused "old laundry" on the ground
floor, as a short-cut toward the newer one in a detached building,
heard a strange noise in the drying-room overhead, and paused to
listen. This was unusual. In ordinary the loft was never entered,
nowadays, except by some slippered maid, or Michael with a trunk.

Setting down her basket of soiled linen she put her hands on her hips
and stood motionless, intently listening. Dorothy? Could it be
Dorothy? Impossible! No living girl could make all that racket;
yet--was that a scream? Was it laughter--terror--wild animal--or what?

Away she sped; her nimble feet pausing not an instant on the way, no
matter with whom she collided nor whom her excited face frightened,
and still breathlessly running came into the great Assembly Hall.
There Miss Tross-Kingdon had, by the advice of the Bishop, gathered
the whole school; to tell them as quietly as she could of Dorothy's
disappearance and to cross-examine them as to what anyone could
remember about her on the evening before.

For the sorrowful fact could no longer be hidden--Dorothy Calvert was
gone and could not be found.

On the faces of those three hundred girls was consternation and grief;
in their young hearts a memory of the "spookish" things which had
happened of late, but that had not before disturbed them; and now, at
the excited entrance of the maid, a shiver ran over the whole company.
Here was news! Nothing less could explain this unceremonious
disturbance. Even Miss Muriel's face turned paler than it had been,
could that have been possible and without a word she waited for the
maid to speak.

"Oh! Lady Principal! Let somebody come! The drying-loft!
screams--boards dragging--or trunks--or murder doing--maybe! Let
somebody go quick--Michael--a man--men--Somebody quick!"

Exhausted by her own excitement, the maid sank upon the nearest chair,
her hand on her heart, and herself unable to add another word. Miss
Tross-Kingdon rose, trembling so that she could hardly walk, and made
her way out of the room. In an instant every assembled sc