CHAPTER XIV--A BLOOD-STAINED HANDKERCHIEF
The next problem was to find the candle for the "ghost" to carry up tothe gloomy heights of tower number three. Ada Slope, little minx thatshe was, had chosen this particular one of the three towers for whichthe Hall was named, because of a legend among the girls, starting fromgoodness knows where, that this tower was haunted.
Now Billie was not by any means a coward, and she had proved by herbehavior in the spooky old mansion at Cherry Corners that she was notinclined to belief in or fear of ghosts.
Yet when Ada Slope ran hastily up to her room and returned bearing atiny Christmas candle, which was all that Billie was to have toaccompany her on her perilous journey, it must be admitted that herheart began to beat a little faster and she was guilty for a moment ofwishing that Ada Slope had picked on any other girl but herself.
However, she acted so perfectly that there was not one of her chums butwho thought that she was delighted at the chance to explore the gloomyold tower--with one little candle for company!
"Suppose--" she thought to herself as Laura lighted the candle forher--or at least she thought it was Laura; they all looked pretty muchalike in their ghostly robes--"suppose it should go out when I reach thetop of the tower and I should have to find my way back in the dark!"
"Courage," Rose Belser cried, as she pushed Billie toward the door, thecandle flickering in her hand. "There are those who say that towernumber three is haunted. But let me remind you, friend, that a ghost isnever afraid of a ghost. Farewell!"
This was not a very encouraging speech, though Billie could not helpgiggling about it as she climbed the back stairs to the first floor.
The house was as still as death, for it was after ten o'clock now, andeverybody, even Miss Walters, seemed to be in bed.
Billie almost ran up the second and third flights, stumbling over herwhite robe and shielding the flickering candle with her hand for fear itwould go out.
When she reached the fourth floor, which was really the attic, she wentmore slowly, for the place was dark and "spooky"--so she said--and thenoise of her footsteps frightened her. The tiny light of her candleseemed to make the shadowy corners of the place all the more startlinglyblack.
Once she thought she heard a noise and stopped short, her heart beatingsuffocatingly in her throat. But it was only the wind sighing drearilyaround the place, and she went on again, more slowly now, starting atevery real or imaginary sound.
The stairway that led to the third tower was at the very end of the longattic, and as she came near to it Billie's courage almost failed her. Itseemed to her that something sinister and terrible was closing in aroundher, and she pressed her hand against her mouth to keep from screaming.
She could see the dim outline of the stairway right before her, but shewas afraid to go forward--and she dared not go back.
What would the girls say if she went back to them and confessed that shehad been too cowardly to stand the test? She would be disgraced foreverin the eyes of her chums, her reputation for daring and bravery would begone, she might even be asked to resign from the Ghost Club.
For a long minute she stood there, fighting the desire to rush back tofriends and human companionship. Then, with a sharp intake of breath,she forced herself to approach the stairs.
With every step she stopped and listened, glancing about her fearfully.But nothing save the sound of her own rapid breathing broke the musty,heavy silence of the place.
"I must go on, I must go on!" she kept telling herself over and overagain. "To the very top of the tower--to the top of the tower----"
What was that?
A rattling, a scurrying, a scratching of tiny feet across the floor.Billie screamed, but stifled the sound half way by stuffing ahandkerchief into her mouth. Her eyes were wide with terror, her hairbegan to stand on end, and with a little moan she made a rush for thestairs up which she had come a minute before.
She had almost reached them when by the light of her candle she sawsomething running across the floor. It was a mouse. Weakly she leanedagainst the wall, trying to summon what remained of her courage.
"They're only mice, silly--they can't hurt you," she told herself, whileher hand shook so that she could scarcely hold the candle. Then a suddenthought made her start back for the tower stairs almost on a run. Thecandle was burning low. She must hurry or she would be left in the dark.Just a quick dive up the stairs to the tower room and the deed would bedone. She could go back then, to friends and lights and adulation. Forshe would be able to tell them proudly that she had done what no othergirl had dared to do--climbed to the top of tower three.
With such thoughts she bolstered up her courage and ran swiftly up thestairs. But the "swish" of her garments in that silent place frightenedher and she stopped before she had quite reached the top. She listenedintently.
Was it imagination, or had she really heard that eerie whisper in herear, felt the soft brushing of a dress against hers? Of course it wasonly imagination. She mustn't think such things or she could never climbto the top of those hateful stairs. She must go on and on--to thetop--the very top--Again that scurrying and squealing as she disturbedanother nest of mice. She grasped the banister frantically to steadyherself.
She must go up--up----Finally she had reached the top of the stairs, andfor one joyful minute she thought that she had climbed to the top of thetower. She could go back again to the girls--she had turned toward thestairs when her eye fell on an object that made her breath catch in herthroat.
Revealed by the uncertain flare of the candle was a ladder, leadingapparently to some room above. Of course, that must be the tower room.Then she still had some climbing to do before her task was finished.
Billie's heart sank as she approached the ladder, stumbling over bits ofjunk and rubbish that littered the floor. She must hurry, too, for thecandle was burning down and she must not be left in the dark in thatplace. She would go crazy--or something.
Outside the wind was rising, and it wailed around the corners of the oldbuilding with an unspeakably weird and mournful sound that filled Billiewith a dreadful premonition of evil.
She really felt, as she hesitated at the foot of the ladder, that shemust get back to the girls or she would go mad. Her knees were tremblingso that she was afraid she could never climb the ladder to the top.
But she must do it or go back to the girls disgraced.
One hand grasped the rung above her head while the other held aloft theflickering candle and she began the difficult climb, hampered by thelong white robe that clung like something alive about her ankles and bythe necessity of holding the candle.
Four rungs, five rungs, six rungs--was the ladder a mile long? shewondered, while the wind wailed still more dismally about the house.
Then at last she reached the top. Her candle showed a small door notmore than four feet high--the door to the tower room.
Her hand felt for the knob. She grasped it. The door was locked. To makesure, Billie gave the door a vigorous shake, and as it did so somethingwhite and soft fluttered to her feet and fell on the top rung of theladder.
For a minute Billie felt faint and dizzy, and she had to cling to theladder desperately to keep from falling.
The next moment she saw that what had frightened her was only ahandkerchief, and she stooped to pick it up. It was old and stained.What was that stain upon it?
She brought the little square of linen closer to her eyes and then witha stifled scream she flung it from her while the candle fell from hernerveless fingers and went out, leaving her in the dark.
The stain on the handkerchief was _blood_!
Billie never remembers to this day how she got out of that awful place.Someway she half fell, half scrambled down the ladder, stumbled and felland stumbled again in her mad rush across the pitch-black attic to thehead of the stairs.
Then down, down, down, a countless number of stairs that came up and hither in the face--down, down to the gymnasium where thousands of ghostlyfigure
s rushed at her----
"Oh, what could have happened to have frightened her so?" she heard avoice saying from a long, long distance, and she opened her eyes to findLaura's white face bending anxiously over her while other white-facedgirls stared at her pityingly.
She struggled to her feet, but her knees wavered so that she sat downagain quite suddenly.
"What's the matter with you all?" she asked, then as the memory of whathad happened came back to her in a flood she shuddered and instinctivelyshe looked down at her hands to see if they still held that piece oflinen with the stains upon it.
"Oh, I remember," she murmured, as though talking to herself. The girlswere watching her anxiously. "I threw it away."
"What, honey?" asked Laura gently.
"The blood-stained handkerchief!"