To her surprise Mrs. Barnes seemed to take offense at this attempt at humor.

“Don’t talk silly,” she snapped.  “If I’ve lived all these years and been as down on spooks and long-haired mediums as I’ve been, and then to—­there—­there!  Don’t let’s be idiots altogether.  Talk about somethin’ else.  Talk about that depot-wagon driver and his pesky go-cart that got us into this mess.  There’s plenty of things I’d like to say about them.”

They talked, in low tones.  Conversation there in the dark and under such circumstances, was rather difficult.  Emily, although she was determined not to admit it, was growing alarmed for the return of Winnie S. and his promised rescue expedition.  Aunt Thankful was thinking of the little back bedroom upstairs.  An utter lack of superstition was something upon which she had prided herself.  But now, as she thought of that room, of the portrait on the wall, and what she had heard—­

“Listen!” whispered Emily, suddenly.  “Listen!  I—­I thought I heard something.”

Mrs. Barnes leaned forward.

“What?  Where?  Upstairs?” she asked, breathlessly.

“No.  Out—­out there somewhere.”  She pointed in the direction of the front hall.  “It sounded as if someone had tried the front door.  Hark!  There it is again.”

Aunt Thankful rose to her feet.  “I heard it, too,” she said.  “It’s probably that driver man come back.  I’ll go and see.”

“No—­no, Auntie, you mustn’t.  I—­I shan’t let you.”

“I shall!  I shall, I tell you!  If I’ve got any common-sense at all, I ain’t goin’ to be scared of—­Of course it’s that driver man.  He’s wonderin’ where we are and he’s lookin’ for us.  I’ll go let him in.”

She broke away from Miss Howes’ grasp and started for the front hall.  The action was a braver one than her cousin realized.  If there was one thing on earth that Thankful Barnes did not wish to do at that moment, it was to go nearer the stairs landing to the rooms above.

But she went, and Emily went with her.  Cautiously they peered through the little windows at the sides of the front door.  There was no one in sight, and, listening, they heard nothing.

“I—­I guess we was mistaken, Emily,” whispered Thankful.  “Let’s go back to the fire.”

“But Auntie, I did hear something.  Didn’t you?”

“Well, I thought I did, but I guess—­Oh, don’t stay here another minute!  I—­I shall be hearin’ ’most anything if we do.”

They returned to the room they had left.  But they had scarcely entered it when they stopped short and, clinging to each other, listened.

It was the latch of the kitchen door they heard click now.  And the door was opening.  In the kitchen they heard the sounds of cautious footsteps, footsteps which entered the dining-room, which came on toward the sitting-room.  And a voice, a man’s voice, whispered: 

“I told you so!  I—­I told you so!  I said I see a light.  And—­and that door was undone and—­and—­By time!  Obed Bangs, you can go on if you want to, but I tell you you’re riskin’ your life.  I—­I ain’t goin’ to stay no longer.  I’m goin’ to fetch the constable—­or—­or the minister or somebody.  I—­”