“That I cannot do,” I said. I entered the house, a long cool dark hallway, lying between rows of doors, with Stella scampering on the boards beside me. The old men came behind, screaming to rouse the women, and out of the long row of doors came numerous Mayfairs—a regular Parliament of Fowls—screeching and screaming. Behind me the wind lashed the oaks. A great scattering of leaves gusted down the hallway before me.
Some of these faces I had seen; all I knew in one fashion or another. As the others peeped out, Tobias sought again to stop me.
“Get out of my way,” I said and planted myself at the foot of the dark oak stairs and then began to climb them.
It was a huge staircase, to one side of the hall, and turning midway, with a broad landing and grim stained glass which made me pause for a moment. For as the light came through the glass, as it passed through the yellow and red panes, I thought of the Cathedral and “remembered” it as I had not in years, not since I’d left Scotland.
I could feel the spirit collected around me. I pushed on, out of breath till I reached the upper hall. “Where is the attic stairs?”
“There, there,” cried Stella, leading me through the double doors to the rear hall, and there was the lesser staircase in a narrow well, and the door at the top of it.
“Evelyn, come down, my child!” I cried. “Evelyn, come down. I cannot come up this long climb. Come down, my girl, I’m your grandfather come to get you.”
There was silence in the house. All the others crowded in the hallway door, staring, so many white oval faces, mouths agape, eyes large and hollow.
“She will not listen to you,” cried one of the women. “She has never listened to anyone.”
“She cannot hear,” cried another.
“Or speak!”
“Look, Julien, the door is locked from this side,” cried Stella, “and the key is in it.”
“Oh, you evil old fools!” I shouted. And I closed my eyes and collected all my strength and was about to command this door to open. I did not know if I could do such a thing, for something like that is never certain. And I could feel Lasher hovering near, and feel his distress and confusion. He did not like this house, these Mayfairs.
Aye, they are not mine, these.
But before I could answer Lasher or persuade him, or make the door move, it opened! The key fell from the lock by some power other than mine, and the door sprang back, letting the sunlight fall into the dusty stairwell.
I knew it was not my power, and so did Lasher! For he collected around me close as if he too were actually fearful.
Calm yourself now, spirit, you are most dangerous when you are afraid. Behave. It is all well and good. The girl herself opened the door. Be silent.
But then he gave me to know the truth. It was the girl who frightened him! Of course. I assured him she was no menace to the likes of us, and please do my bidding.
The sunlight brightened the swirling dust. And then there came a tall thin shadow—a girl of great beauty, with full glossy hair, and still eyes staring down at me. She seemed frightfully tall and thin, even starved perhaps.
“Come down to me, my child,” said I. “You see yourself you need not be a prisoner of anyone.”
She understood my words and as she came down, silently, step by step with her soft leather shoes, I saw her eyes move above me and to the left and to the right of me, and over Stella, and again as she beheld the invisible thing clustered about us. She saw “the man,” as they say, she saw him invisible and made no secret.
When she reached the foot of the stairs, she turned, beheld the others, and shrank trembling! I have never seen fear so expressed by one without a sound. I snatched up her hand.
“Come with me, darling. You and you alone shall decide whether you wish to live in an attic.”
I pulled her to me; she gave no resistance, and no cooperation either. How strange she seemed, how pale, how accustomed to the darkness. Her neck was long and thin, and she had small ears with no lobes to them, and then I saw on her hand the mark of the witch! She had on her left hand the sixth finger! Just as