CHAPTER XV

A NOISE IN THE DARK

“Maybe you wouldn’t do it for a farm,” said Mrs. Gilligan, striding resolutely toward the man and the boy, while the two drew apart and stared at her in surprise, “but you’re goin’ to do it for me.  If you think I’m going to lug those trunks and provisions and things into the house all by myself, you never was so much mistaken in your life.  What do you suppose I’m paying you my good money for?  Now, get a move on and hurry those things inside, or I’ll have to take a hand in the matter myself.  Trunks first!”

And too much surprised by this deluge of words to refuse, the old man turned to the trunks, and, assisted by the boy, carried them into the hall.

“This is far enough,” he said, but Mrs. Maria Gilligan, accustomed to having her own way, would have none of it.

“Upstairs,” she ordered.  “You don’t suppose we are going to sleep on the ground floor, do you?  And we’re not going to carry them ourselves, either.”

And once more the old man obeyed her, while the boy, wicked youngster, laughed at him behind his back.

“If you meet a ghost coming downstairs, Gramper,” he taunted, “just tell him to be careful and not stumble over you.  There now, be careful, will you?  You almost dropped the thing on my foot.”

The girls watched the two go upstairs with Mrs. Gilligan bringing up the rear to make sure they did not stop half way, and then turned to each other with a queer expression, half of amusement, half of uneasiness, on their faces.

“Well, we always wanted an adventure,” said Laura, as they turned back to the open door, feeling an instinctive need of getting out of the house, “and now we’re having one.”

“A regular one,” agreed Billie, adding decidedly:  “And I’m going to enjoy myself.  Why, Laura,” with a touch of excitement, “did you notice those funny old chairs and things?  They’re really very pretty, and they are surely very old.  I shouldn’t wonder—­”

“Oh, Billie,” cried Violet rapturously, “do you suppose you could get real money for them?  If you could,” she added with the air of a martyr that made the girls laugh, “it would be worth even braving the ghosts for.”

“You don’t really believe that silly thing, do you?” asked Billie, turning back into the hall.  “It’s all in a foolish old man’s imagination.”

“All right.  And now you can bring in the provisions,” they heard Mrs. Gilligan directing.  “I don’t know where the kitchen is, but I suppose there is one somewhere.  I’ll find it while you start to bring the things in.”

“We’ll each take a candle,” cried Billie, her eyes shining in the flickering candle light, “and look for the kitchen.  Come on, girls, follow the leader.”

So, with Mrs. Gilligan at the head, they marched through what seemed to be a library, seen dimly by the light thrown by their four candles, into a room whose table and chairs showed it to be the dining-room.