A Popular Schoolgirl, Angela Brazil [big screen ebook reader txt] 📗

their roommate’s doings, but that night, when The Foursomes met in the privacy of Dormitory 2, they demanded an account of her adventure.

She certainly had a piece of interesting news to confide.

“Did you know that a ghost haunts the garden?”

“No! Oh, I say, where?”

“That part by the sundial. I’ve heard it called ‘The Nun’s Walk!’ ”

“So have I; but I never knew there was a ghost!”

“It’s supposed to walk on moonlight nights.”

“How fearfully thrillsome!”

“I’ve never seen a ghost!” shivered Fil.

“No more have I⁠—and I’ve never met anyone who exactly has. It’s generally their cousin’s cousin who’s told them about it.”

“There’s a moon tonight,” remarked Nora.

“So there is!”

The four girls looked at one another, hair brushes in hand. Each had it on the tip of her tongue to make a suggestion.

“I dare you to go!” said Verity at last.

“Not alone?”

Fil was clutching already at Nora’s hand.

“Well, no! Hardly alone. I vote we all go together and try if we can see anything.”

“It would be rather spooksomely jinky!”

“Well, look here, don’t let’s undress properly, but get into bed, and cover ourselves up until Nurse has been her rounds, then we’ll slip downstairs and out through the side door into the garden. Are you game?”

“Who’s afraid?” said Ingred valiantly.

Upstairs in their bedroom, with the gas turned on, it was easy enough to feel courageous. Their spirits rose indeed at the prospect of such an adventure. Nurse Warner, who came into the room a little later, looked round at the four beds, turned out the gas, and departed without a suspicion. She had not been gone five minutes when a surreptitious dressing took place, and four figures in dark coats stole down the stairs. Though the building of the College might be absolutely modern, the garden was a relic of medieval days. It had formerly belonged to the nunnery of St. Mary’s, and had adjoined the Abbey. Parts of the crumbling old wall were still left, and a flagged path led from a sundial to some ruins. In the daytime it was a cheerful place, and a blaze of color. The girls had never before seen it in its night aspect. On this May evening it had a quiet beauty that was most impressive. The full moon shone on the great dark pile of the Abbey towers and the beech avenue beyond. There was just light enough in the garden to distinguish bushes as heavy masses, and to trace the paths from the grass. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers.

It is amazing how different conditions can alter a scene: at noon, with the hum from the busy streets, it was commonplace enough; by moonlight it became a mystic bower of enchantment. The girls walked along very quietly, treading on the grass so as to make no noise. A slight mist was rising from the ground near the Abbey; in the rays of the moon it resembled a lake. Everything, indeed, was altered. The outline of the sumach bush was like a crouching tiger; the laburnum tassels waved like skeleton fingers. It seemed a witching, unreal world.

Four rather scared girls crept along, clasping hands for moral support. Each secretly would have been relieved to abandon the quest, but did not like to be the first to turn tail. They had determined to walk from the sundial to the Abbey wall and back again. So far the garden, though mysterious, showed no signs of anything supernatural. They began to pluck up courage, and even to talk to one another in low whispers. At the ruins they turned and looked back towards the sundial. The moonlight streamed along the flagged path, and shimmered on the clumps of early yellow lilies.

What was that, stealing from under the shelter of the hawthorn tree? The girls gasped and almost stopped breathing.

A tall figure, clothed in some long white garment, was gliding towards them. It kept in the shadow, and they could see no details, only a light mass that was slowly and steadily advancing apparently straight to where they were crouching beside the wall. Fil was trembling like a leaf, Nora declared afterward that her hair stood on end, Ingred and Verity felt shivers run down their spines. Nearer and nearer came the white figure. Its approach was more than flesh and blood could stand. With a wild shriek Fil dashed across the lawn, followed closely by Nora, Ingred, and Verity.

“Girls!” cried a clear and well-known voice. “Girls! Stop! What are you doing here?”

There was no mistaking the tone of command of the headmistress. Four amazed and crestfallen damsels halted and turned back, to find Miss Burd, attired in a white dressing-gown, standing in the moonlight on the grass.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked. “And why aren’t you all in bed?”

It is always difficult to give explanations, and (to such a matter-of-fact person as Miss Burd) it seemed particularly silly to have to confess that they had come out ghost-hunting, and had mistaken her for a spirit. She emptied the vials of her scorn upon their dejected heads.

“Don’t let me hear of any more nonsense of this sort!” she finished. “I should have thought you were too intelligent to believe in such rubbish. As for leaving your dormitory at this hour, you deserve to be locked in the cycle-shed for the night. I shall, of course, report you to Mrs. Best, and none of you will play tennis for a week, as a punishment.”

Miss Burd, bristling with anger, swept the delinquents before her to the door of the hostel, and watched them flee upstairs, then went to lay the matter before Mrs. Best.

In Dormitory 2, four girls got into bed at topmost speed.

“Of all the ill-luck!” mourned Fil.

“I didn’t know Miss Burd prowled about the garden in a dressing-gown,” exclaimed Ingred.

“She did look exactly like a ghost!” confirmed Verity.

“Tennis off for a whole week! Blossom will be furious! It’s too absolutely grizzly for anything!” groused Nora. “I wish the wretched old ghost had been at Jericho before we went