a fly could be heard. This
sepulchral quiet gave a dismal relief to the noises which issued from
the house.

"Let us look," said the French boy.

And he made a step towards the house.

The others were so frightened that they resolved to follow him. They did
not dare even to run away alone.

Just as they had passed a heap of fagots, which for some mysterious
reason seemed to inspire them with a little courage in that solitude, a
white owl flew towards them from a bush. The owls have a suspicious sort
of flight, a sidelong skim which is suggestive of mischief afloat. The
bird passed near the boys, fixing upon them its round eyes, bright
amidst the darkness.

A shudder ran through the group behind the French boy.

He looked up at the owl and said:

"Too late, my bird; I _will_ look."

And he advanced.

The crackling sound made by his thick-nailed boots among the furze
bushes did not prevent his hearing the noise in the house, which rose
and fell with the continuousness and the calm accent of a dialogue.

A moment afterwards the boy added:

"Besides, it is only fools who believe in spirits."

Insolence in the face of danger rallies the cowardly, and inspirits them
to go on.

The two Torteval lads resumed their march, quickening their steps behind
the caulker's apprentice.

The haunted house seemed to them to grow larger before their eyes. This
optical illusion of fear is founded in reality. The house did indeed
grow larger, for they were coming nearer to it.

Meanwhile the voices in the house took a tone more and more distinct.
The children listened. The ear, too, has its power of exaggerating. It
was different to a murmur, more than a whispering, less than an uproar.
Now and then one or two words, clearly articulated, could be caught.
These words, impossible to be understood, sounded strangely. The boys
stopped and listened; then went forward again.

"It's the ghosts talking," said the caulker's apprentice; "but I don't
believe in ghosts."

The Torteval boys were sorely tempted to shrink behind the heap of
fagots, but they had already left it far behind; and their friend the
caulker continued to advance towards the house. They trembled at
remaining with him; but they dared not leave him.

Step by step, and perplexed, they followed. The caulker's apprentice
turned towards them and said--

"You know it isn't true. There are no such things."

The house grew taller and taller. The voices became more