Chapter IX WHAT HAPPENED IN THE SECOND ROOM

As they trooped into the ancient, strangely coloured hall their voices instinctively became lower and joking ceased. Blanche drew her friend aside.

"It's a lovely place, Billy!…Well, did you speak to him again?"

"Yes, it's all right-he's going to let us have it."

"How did you manage it?"

"I didn't manage it at all; the offer came from him."

"Really?"

"Certainly-why shouldn't it? So now we shall live here, I suppose."

"Congratulations, my dear!…I expect you'll have to see quite a lot of him after this? You took that into consideration, of course?"

"Why do you dislike him so much?"

"I neither like nor dislike him. I'm only afraid you may have to pay a rather high price for your house, that's all. However, it's your funeral…"

Blanche forthwith turned to Judge, to express her astonishment at the beauty of the hall. It looked even weirder than usual, by reason of the circumstance that the sun's rays now penetrated the windows obliquely, so that one half of the place was in shadow. Judge responded to her with somewhat worried courtesy. Meanwhile Isbel seated herself in a wicker chair, with her back to the fireplace.

"Is the headache worse?" asked Roger, quietly and kindly.

"It isn't any better, Roger." As the others came up: "I wonder if you would all mind seeing the house without me? I hate being a wet blanket."

"What do you propose doing, then?" asked Blanche.

"I'll stop here; my head's going like an engine. I've seen everything before."

"Except that one room," Judge reminded her. "Still, there's absolutely nothing to see there."

"What room is that?" asked "Blanche.

"A room on the top floor," explained Isbel. "Supposed to be haunted-isn't it, Mr. Judge?"

"I don't know where that information comes from, I'm sure. Foolish tales may be told of it, as of any other room."

Blanche laughed. "A real live ghost, Mr. Judge?"

"I hope it's a classic example, but I really know nothing about it."

"How thrilling? You'll take us there?"

"Certainly, if you wish it."

Bur, first of all, they decided to complete their inspection of the apartments on the ground floor. Isbel remained sitting while the others wandered about the hall. The almost incessant drone of Judge's voice, as he explained his property, detail by detail, began to exercise a soporific effect upon her, and she had a hard task to keep her eyes open…

She must have dozed, for she awoke to consciousness with a start. She was alone in the hall. Her friends were still somewhere on the lower floor; she could hear their voices sounding from one of the rooms in the back of the house. The words were indistinguishable, but Judge's rumbling tones were nearly continuous, while Blanche's high-pitched organ supplied an occasional punctuation. She thought how singular it was that a woman's voice should always sound so absurdly shrill when heard from another room in conjunction with a man's.

She sat up sharply and rearranged her skirt. Without her being aware of the fact, her foot was tapping the floor rapidly in nervous agitation. Before going upstairs they would have to return to the hall. They might reappear at any moment, and until they were safely away in the upper part of the house she dared not risk turning in her chair-to see what was behind her…If those stairs should already be there!

When, shortly afterwards, the door of the dining-room was thrown open and her friends re-entered the hall in a cluster, bringing with them a clatter of conversation, Isbel smiled towards them, but made no offer to rise.

"Aha! She's awake," exclaimed Roger.

"Did you expect to find me asleep, then?"

"You were slumbering beatifically when we left you. We went out on tiptoes, like a trio of conspirators. Endorse me, Judge."

"Well, what do you think of it all, Blanche, as far as you've seen?"

"It's a perfectly wonderful house. So picturesque and quiet, and so full of shadows. Won't you come over the rest with us now?"

"No, thanks. I'd better keep still, I think."

Judge pulled out a gold half-hunter. "What shan't be a great while. It's a quarter to three. It ought not to take us above an hour, I fancy. You don't mind waiting that time?"

"No, no-only do go!"

Before departing, roger lit a cigarette.

"Have one, to pass the time away, Billy?"

"Perhaps I will."

The first match went out, and she reached her hand for the box.

"I've seen steadier hands than yours," remarked Roger.

She passed back the box without a word, retained the lighted cigarette in her mouth, and suffered her hand to remain motionless on her lap. Blanche and Judge were already at the foot of the staircase, and Roger hastened after them. Isbel gave a noiseless sigh, smoking on nervously.

From her seat she could hear her friends debating on the upper landing where they should go first. Judge suggested the first-floor apartments, but Blanche insisted on the haunted room. Apparently she gained her way, for a minute later their footsteps sounded on the upper staircase, leading to the top of the house. Their voices sank to a confused murmur, which grew lower and lower, until at last absolute silence reigned.

At the end of three minutes or so, Isbel rose suddenly, overturning the chair in her vehemence. Her eyes swiftly fastened themselves on the wall next to the fireplace…And then she gave a silent laugh of reaction, for she at once realised how unnecessary her impatience had been. Not only was that staircase there, directly confronting her, but how could it help being there?-it was so manifestly solid and tangible, it was so essential a part of the structure of the hall…Truly, it was most puzzling that she had not noticed it on their entrance a short time ago, and that none of the party had called attention to it, but it was out of the question to go against the evidence of her senses. The staircase was made of wood, it had been constructed by human hands, and it ascended to a different part of the same house. There was nothing mystical or unnatural about it; it was a straight-forward piece of work, intended for everyday use. And in fact, she had used it. if she hadn't perfectly well remembered that, she would certainly not have plotted and planned to be there that afternoon.

More minutes passed before she could bring herself to move. Covering her eyes with her hand, she made a violent effort to recall what had taken place before; it was both odd and exasperating that it should have so completely escaped her. She distinctly recollected her impressions while standing with her foot on the first step, but after that all was oblivion, until she had been in the act of redescending into the hall. What could possibly be the cause of this most unpleasant failure of memory?…Perhaps the atmosphere of that upper part of the building was hypnotic? That, however, would only be explaining one mystery by another, for what kind of rooms could they be which had the effect of drugging the brain to permanent forgetfulness? But perhaps she had dreamt it all, and was still dreaming? Or she might be suffering from hallucination, suggested by Judge's story?…She had never felt more sane, wide awake, or rational in her life. The explanation could not be that…

Time was creeping on. She looked upwards towards the gallery, and listened intently, with held breath. There was not a sound; the others evidently were still on the top floor. She stepped noiselessly across to the bottom of the staircase, and began to ascend. Again the thrill of adventure seized her which she had experienced on the former occasion. She felt that she was visiting an unknown region of the house, where strange discoveries awaited her…

Almost immediately she started to remember. She could not recall everything at once, but had to piece it together, as one pieces together an old and buried event in one's career. At the head of these stairs there should be an ante-room, with three doors. Through one of these doors she had passed. In the room beyond she had seen…a wall-mirror…and a red curtain. Pushing past the curtain-what had happened next?…She dimly recollected having descended more stairs-having found herself once again in the hall…It was all frightfully obscure and dark!