He stared in speechless amazement—amazement that wasdangerously near to horror. It was his aunt’s face indeed， but itwas her face of forty years ago， the vacant innocent face of agirl. He had heard stories of that strange effect of terror whichcould wipe a human countenance clean of other emotions，obliterating all previous expressions； but he had never realisedthat it could be literally true， or could mean anything so simplyhorrible as what he now saw. For the dreadful signature ofovermastering fear was written plainly in that utter vacancyof the girlish face beside him； and when， feeling his intensegaze， she turned to look at him， he instinctively closed his eyestightly to shut out the sight.
Yet， when he turned a minute later， his feelings well in hand，he saw to his intense relief another expression； his aunt wassmiling， and though the face was deathly white， the awful veilhad lifted and the normal look was returning.
“Anything wrong？” was all he could think of to say at themoment. And the answer was eloquent， coming from such awoman.
“I feel cold—and a little frightened，” she whispered.
He offered to close the window， but she seized hold of himand begged him not to leave her side even for an instant.
“It’s upstairs， I know，” she whispered， with an odd halflaugh； “but I can’t possibly go up.”
But Shorthouse thought otherwise， knowing that in actionlay their best hope of self-control.
He took the brandy flask and poured out a glass of neatspirit， stiff enough to help anybody over anything. Sheswallowed it with a little shiver. His only idea now was to getout of the house before her collapse became inevitable； butthis could not safely be done by turning tail and running fromthe enemy. Inaction was no longer possible； every minute hewas growing less master of himself， and desperate， aggressivemeasures were imperative without further delay. Moreover， theaction must be taken towards the enemy， not away from it； theclimax， if necessary and unavoidable， would have to be facedboldly. He could do it now； but in ten minutes he might nothave the force left to act for himself， much less for both！
Upstairs， the sounds were meanwhile becoming louder andcloser， accompanied by occasional creaking of the boards.
Someone was moving stealthily about， stumbling now andthen awkwardly against the furniture.
Waiting a few moments to allow the tremendous dose ofspirits to produce its effect， and knowing this would last buta short time under the circumstances. Shorthouse then quietlygot on his feet， saying in a determined voice—“Now， Aunt Julia， We’ll go upstairs and find out what all thisnoise is about. You must come too. It’s what we agreed.”
He picked up his stick and went to the cupboard for thecandle. A limp form rose shakily beside him breathing hard，and he heard a voice say very faintly something about being“ready to come.” The woman’s courage amazed him； it wasso much greater than his own； and， as they advanced， holdingaloft the dripping candle， some subtle force exhaled from thistrembling， white-faced old woman at his side that was the truesource of his inspiration. It held something really great thatshamed him and gave him the support without which he wouldhave proved far less equal to the occasion.
They crossed the dark landing， avoiding with their eyes thedeep black space over the banisters. Then they began to mountthe narrow staircase to meet the sounds which， minute byminute， grew louder and nearer. About half-way up the stairsAunt Julia stumbled and Shorthouse turned to catch her bythe arm， and just at that moment there came a terrific crash inthe servants’ corridor overhead. It was instantly followed bya shrill， agonised scream that was a cry of terror and a cry forhelp melted into one.
Before they could move aside， or go down a single step，someone came rushing along the passage overhead， blunderinghorribly， racing madly， at full speed， three steps at a time，down the very staircase where they stood. The steps were lightand uncertain； but close behind them sounded the heavier treadof another person， and the staircase seemed to shake.
Shorthouse and his companion just had time to flattenthemselves against the wall when the jumble of flying stepswas upon them， and two persons， with the slightest possibleinterval between them， dashed past at full speed. It was aperfect whirlwind of sound breaking in upon the midnightsilence of the empty building.
The two runners， pursuer and pursued， had passed cleanthrough them where they stood， and already with a thud theboards below had received first one， then the other. Yet theyhad seen absolutely nothing—not a hand， or arm， or face， oreven a shred of flying clothing.
There came a second’s pause. Then the first one， the lighterof the two， obviously the pursued one， ran with uncertainfootsteps into the little room which Shorthouse and his aunthad just left. The heavier one followed. There was a soundof scuffling， gasping， and smothered screaming； and then outon to the landing came the step—of a single person treadingweightily.
A dead silence followed for the space of half a minute， andthen was heard a rushing sound through the air. It was followedby a dull， crashing thud in the depths of the house below—onthe stone floor of the hall.
Utter silence reigned after. Nothing moved. The flame of thecandle was steady. It had been steady the whole time， and theair had been undisturbed by any movement whatsoever. Palsiedwith terror， Aunt Julia， without waiting for her companion，began fumbling her way downstairs； she was crying gently toherself， and when Shorthouse put his arm round her and halfcarried herhe felt that she was trembling like a leaf. He wentinto the little room and picked up the cloak from the floor， and，arm in arm， walking very slowly， without speaking a word orlooking once behind them， they marched down the three flightsinto the hall.
In the hall they saw nothing， but the whole way down thestairs they were conscious that someone followed them； stepby step； when they went faster IT was left behind， and whenthey went more slowly IT caught them up. But never once didthey look behind to see； and at each turning of the staircasethey lowered their eyes for fear of the following horror theymight see upon the stairs above.
With trembling hands Shorthouse opened the front door， andthey walked out into the moonlight and drew a deep breath ofthe cool night air blowing in from the sea.