listened again, but there was no more noise. Presently Dora said in a whisper—
"Whatever shall we do? Oh, whatever shall we do—what shall we do?"
And she kept on saying it till we had to tell her to shut up.
O reader, have you ever been playing Red Indians in blankets round a bed-room fire in a house where you thought there was no one but you—and then suddenly heard a noise like a chair, and a fire being poked, downstairs? Unless you have you will not be able to imagine at all what it feels like. It was not like in books; our hair did not stand on end at all, and we never said "Hist!" once, but our feet got very cold, though we were in blankets by the fire, and the insides of Oswald's hands got warm and wet, and his nose was cold like a dog's, and his ears were burning hot.
The girls said afterwards that they shivered with terror, and their teeth chattered, but we did not see or hear this at the time.
"Shall we open the window and call police?" said Dora; and then Oswald suddenly thought of something, and he breathed more freely and he said—
"I know it's not ghosts, and I don't believe
