THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS CASTLE

Waikato Times, Volume 125, Issue 20917, 23 September 1939, Page 19 (Supplement)

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS CASTLE

(Continued from last week) CHAPTER 11 Joan Investigates “Look after herl” Joan spoke in a low, tense voice as she jumped to her feet and ran into the silent hall. Joan’s first impulse was to look around for electric light switches; but there were none, and she was to discover that there was no electric light in the castle at all. Illumination was supplied by innumerable patent oil lamps fitted with incadescent mantles. These, however, were not lit. Not pausing, Joan passed through the hall to the far end and reached the spot where she judge 4 the vague form had disappeared. There was nothing to account for a disappearance—no panel which could have opened, because at this particular place the rough granite of the buttress was not covered by the panelling. In front of this particular buttress, however, the huge grandfather clock stood —and, a thought striking her, she reached out her hand and opened the door of the clock. The flickering light from the fires was sufficient for her to see inside—and one glance showed her that the case was empty save for the weights and chains and slowly-swinging pendulum. Joan slowly closed the door and returned towards the doorway, through which her two chums were assisting Doreen. “Oh, I’m so glad you have come,” the latter said gratefully. “Let’s ring for Benson to light the lamps. There’s the bell.” She indicated an old-fashioned bellpush by the right of the nearer of the fireplaces, and Joan promptly pressed it, causing a bell to ring in the servants’ quarters. “What happened?’’ she asked, as they settled Doreen in a chair before the lire. Doreen shivered. “I don’t know—it was so eerie. Yet I know you’ll laugh at me. I—l thought I heard strange noises all around me—yet I was alone all the while. Then—then I thought I—l saw something moving over there.” She nodded towards the spot where Joan had also seen something moving. “I—l thought it was the ghost. But I suppose I—l must have been mistaken. I must have imagined it,” she added. Joan felt Joyce’s eyes on her, but refused to look in her direction. “What made you run in here like that?” Joyce asked suspiciously, looking all around her nervously. " To see what was doing, of course,” Joan replied casually. “Of course, Doreen, you must have imagined it. You ought to know that there is no such thing as a ghost anywhere.” “That’s what I say,” Fay nodded, but all the same her tone was not as positive as it might have been. “Jolly lot of rot—what?” “You rang, miss?” Even Joan started as the solemn, deep voice sounded just behind them. None had observed the entry of Benson, the butler. “Oh, yes, please, Benson,” Doreen cried eagerly. “Will you light the lamps— all of them?” His eyebrows went up. “All of them, miss ?” he questioned, obviously in surprise. “Yes—let's have lots and lots of light. This place is—is so creepy. Haven’t you found it so, Benson?” Benson coughed discreetly. “Your grandfather thinks* it is a wonderful old place, miss,” he replied. He proceeded to pump up the lamps, one by one, and ignite the mantles. This done, he paused. “I didn’t know that visitors had arrived, miss,” he said apologetically. “I heard no sign of their arrival.” “No,” said Doreen hastily. “i er—l s*w them coming and ran to the door myself. Thank you, Benson.” “Now,” said Doreen, when he had disappeared, “I feel better. I hope you didn’t mind my request?” “Not at all,” smiled Joan, who had been thinking hard. “As a matter of fact, my friends had come over to keep me company. My people are away until Christmas Eve.” A cry of joy broke ' from Doreen and she leant forward eagerly. “Listen, Joan—will you "stay here with me for Christmas? Maisie’s coming on Christmas Eve. I—l thought you’d know everyone round here and we could send out invitations at once—to-night, say? Will you? You see, we only came here yesterday.”’ Joan smiled. “We certainly didn’t know that the castle had been bought, much less that someone had taken up residence,” jbe declared. “As for coming here, why, I’d love to. I’ve always wanted io explore this lovely old place.”

“Then you’ll stay with me?” “Yes—and, what’s more, I’ll come to-night,” Joan promised, to Doreen’s' joy. “I’ve nothing to keep me at home, ami I shali just love -being here.” Two hours later Joan was installed in a room at the castle, next to Doreen's, to which she could obtain access through a communicating doorway. Joyce and Fay had promised to return on the following afternoon, and, thoroughly happy now, Doreen wrote out invitation cards for the party she was to hold on Christmas Eve. Joan’s one object was to discover the secret of that strange shapeless “ghost” and the eerie noises Doreen vowed she had heard. Secret passages suggested a means of sudden appearance and equally abrupt egress. But she could find none. She provided herself with a powerful torch, with a spare bulb inside its case, and with this she had searched systematically. To no account. Nothing else happened that she could trace. Doreen became much braver and began to laugh at her experience, even suggesting that perhaps she had made a mistake and that she had imagined it all. Joan would have liked heartily to agree with her, but she knew that she, too, had seen “It,” eveh if she had heard nothing. The day before Christmas Eve they spent in decorating the hall, which had a musician’s gallery overlooking it above the corner in which the grandfather clock stood. Doreen’s grandfather—who was very much of a recluse in his habits—spared no expense in providing everything she wished for the success of her party. He didn’t mind what happened so long as he was not bothered, spending most of his time in his study. Joan discovered that he knew nothing of the fear Doreen had felt at coming to the castle. lie knew nothing of the ghostly visitation and mysterious noises. He quite imagined his granddaughter to be perfectly happy and content. “There I don’t care for fiftv ghostesses now,” laughed Doreen,“as they stood contemplating the result of their labours. II returned Joan heartily, it does look nice, doesn’t it?” “Lovely! oh, what a grand time "ere going to have—and ail through you 1 You're a darlingi” (Tc be continued.)