The two girls made their way slowly to this spot, and Bab felt along the sill for the candle.  It was not in its accustomed place.

“I can’t find the candle, Ruth,” Bab whispered.  “But you know where to find the water.  Just fumble until you get hold of the pitcher.”

“Won’t you have a glass of water?” Ruth invited, pushing the tumbler under Bab’s very nose.  Then the two girls began to giggle softly.

“No, thank you,” Bab answered decidedly.  “Come, thirsty maiden!  Who took me from my nice warm bed?  Ruth Stuart!  Let’s go back upstairs and get to sleep again in a hurry.”

But for answer, Ruth drew Barbara down on the old leather couch in the complete darkness and put her arms about her.

“Don’t go back to bed, Bab.  I’m not a bit sleepy.  That’s why I dragged you out of bed.  I couldn’t go to sleep and I just had to have company.  Be a nice Bab and let’s sit here and exchange conversation.”

“All right,” Bab replied amiably, snuggling up closer to her friend.  “Dear me, isn’t it cold and dark and quiet out here!”

Ruth gave a faint shiver.  Then both girls sat absolutely still without speaking or moving—­they had heard an unmistakable sound in the hall below them.  The noise was so slight it could hardly be called a sound.  Yet even this slight movement did not belong to the night and the silence of the sleeping household.

The sound was repeated.  Then a stillness followed, more absolute than before.

“Is it a burglar, Bab?” Ruth breathed.

Barbara’s hand pressure meant they must listen and wait.  “It may be possible,” Bab thought, “that a dog or cat has somehow gotten into the house downstairs.”

At this, the girls left the sofa and, going over to the banister, peered cautiously down into the darkness.

This time the two girls saw a light that shone like a flame in the darkness below.  Quietly there floated into their line of vision something white, ethereal—­perchance a spirit from another world.  It vanished and the blackness was again unbroken.  The figure had seemed strangely tall.  It appeared to swim along, rather than to walk, draperies as fine as mist hanging about it.

“What on earth was that, Barbara?” Ruth queried, more curious than frightened by the apparition.  “If I believed in spirits I might think we had just seen the ghost of Harriet’s mother.  Harriet’s old black Mammy has always said that Aunt Hattie comes back at night to guard Harriet, if she is in any special trouble or danger.”

“I suppose we had better go downstairs and find out what we have seen,” whispered more matter-of-fact Bab.  “Mr. Hamlin is not here.  I don’t think there is any sense in our arousing the family until we know something more.  I should not like to frighten Mrs. Wilson and Harriet for nothing.”

The two girls slipped downstairs without making a sound.  Everything on the lower floor seemed dark and quiet.  Ruth and Bab both began to think they had been haunted by a dream.  They were on their way upstairs again, when Ruth suddenly turned and glanced behind her.