and shut the window-shutters fast, an hour
or more before dark, rather than leave them
open five minutes too late. But my little
lady still heard the weird child crying and
mourning; and not all we could do or say,
could keep her from wanting to go to her,
and let her in from the cruel wind and the
snow. All this time, I kept away from Miss
Furnivall and Mrs. Stark, as much as ever
I could; for I feared them— I knew no good
could be about them, with their grey hard
faces, and their dreamy eyes, looking back
into the ghastly years that were gone. But,
even in my fear, I had a kind of pity— for
Miss Furnivall, at least. Those gone down
to the pit can hardly have a more hopeless
look than that which was ever on her face. At
last I even got so sorry for her— who never
said a word but what was quite forced from
her— that I prayed for her; and I taught
Miss Rosamond to pray for one who had done
a deadly sin; but often when she came to
those words, she would listen, and start up
from her knees, and say, "I hear my little
girl plaining and crying very sad— Oh! let
her in, or she will die!"

One night— just after New Year's Day had
come at last, and the long winter had taken a
turn as I hoped— I heard the west drawing-
room bell ring three times, which was the
signal for me. I would not leave Miss
Rosamond alone, for all she was asleep— for
the old lord had been playing wilder than
ever— and I feared lest my darling should
waken to hear the spectre child; see her I
knew she could not. I had fastened the
windows too well for that. So, I took her out
of her bed and wrapped her up in such outer
clothes as were most handy, and carried her
down to the drawing-room, where the old
ladies sat at their tapestry work as usual.
They looked up when I came in, and Mrs.
Stark asked, quite astounded, "Why did I
bring Miss Rosamond there, out of her warm
bed?" I had begun to whisper, "Because I
was afraid of her being tempted out while
I was away, by the wild child in the snow,"
when she stopped me short (with a glance at
Miss Furnivall) and said Miss Furnivall
wanted me to undo some work she had done
wrong, and which neither of them could see
to unpick. So, I laid my pretty dear on the
sofa, and sat down on a stool by them, and
hardened my heart against them as I heard
the wind rising and howling.

Miss Rosamond slept on sound, for all the
wind blew so; and Miss Furnivall said never
a word, nor looked round when the gusts
shook the windows. All at once she started
up to her fall height, and put up one hand as
if to bid us listen.

"I hear voices!" said she. "I hear terrible
screams— I hear my father's voice!"

Just at that moment, my darling wakened
with a sudden start: "My little girl is
crying, oh, how she is crying!" and she
tried to get up and go to her, but she got her
feet entangled in the blanket, and I caught
her up; for my flesh had begun to creep at
these noises, which they heard while we
could catch no sound. In a minute or two
the noises came, and gathered fast, and filled
our ears; we, too, heard voices and screams,
and no longer heard the winter's wind that
raged abroad. Mrs. Stark looked at me, and
I at her, but we dared not speak. Suddenly
Miss Furnivall went towards the door, out
into the ante-room, through the west lobby,
and opened the door into the great hall. Mrs.
Stark followed, and I durst not be left,
though my heart almost stopped beating for
fear. I wrapped my darling tight in my
arms, and went out with them. In the hall
the screams were louder than ever; they
sounded to come from the east wing— nearer
and nearer— close on the other side of the
locked-up doors—  close behind them. Then I
noticed that the great bronze chandelier seemed
all alight, though the hall was dim, and that
a fire was blazing in the vast hearth-place,
though it gave no heat; and I shuddered up
with terror, and folded my darling closer to
me. But as I did so, the east door shook, and
she, suddenly struggling to get free from me,
cried, "Hester! I must go! My little girl is
there; I hear her; she is coming! Hester,
I must go!"

I held her tight with all my strength;
with a set will, I held her. If I had died, my
hands would have grasped her still; I was so
resolved in my mind. Miss Furnivall stood
listening, and paid no regard to my darling,
who had got down to the ground, and whom
I, upon my knees now, was holding with both
my arms clasped round her neck; she still
striving and crying to get free.

All at once, the east door gave way with a
thundering crash, as if torn open in a violent
passion, and there came into that broad and
mysterious light, the figure of a tall old man,
with grey hair and gleaming eyes. He drove
before him, with many a relentless gesture of
abhorrence, a stern and beautiful woman,
with a little child clinging to her dress.

"Oh Hester! Hester!" cried Miss Rosamond.
"It's the lady! the lady below the
holly-trees; and my little girl is with her.
Hester! Hester! let me go to her; they are
drawing me to them. I feel them— I feel
them. I must go!"

Again she was almost convulsed by her
efforts to get away; but I held her
tighter and tighter, till I feared I should
do her a hurt; but rather that than let
her go towards those terrible phantoms.
They passed along towards the great hall-
door, where the winds howled and ravened
for their prey; but before they reached that,
the lady turned; and I could see that she
defied the old man with a fierce and proud
defiance; but then she quailed— and then she
threw up her arms wildly and piteously to
save her child— her little child— from a blow
from his uplifted crutch.