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Brazil, Angela, 1868-1947

"Monitress Merle"


To plunge down here was like taking a dip into Dante's 'Inferno,' it
looked so particularly dark and gloomy, and such a suitable place for
anything ghostly.
"I wish we'd brought a lantern with us!" murmured Mavis.
"Then we shouldn't see any spooks!" declared Merle. "Come along! Let's go
as far as the old gate at any rate. I dare you both to come! Who's
afraid?"
Clive certainly was not going to show the white feather, and Mavis,
though rather nervy, preferred to venture forward with the others than to
remain by herself, so it ended in their all going on, arm-in-arm. They
had worked themselves to such a pitch of excitement that the whole
atmosphere seemed charged with the supernatural. There were mysterious
groanings and rustlings in the hedge, and the long branches of the trees
moaned as they swayed. It was so dark they were almost groping their way,
and could barely see the banks on either side. Suddenly, through a rift
in the trees came a faint gleam of starlight, and oh! horror of horrors!
What was that black dog-like object running rapidly towards them up the
lane? Mavis, whose over-sensitive nerves were strung up to the last
point, yelled with terror, and clung screaming to Merle, who gave a
shriek of agony herself as the phantom approached and leaped at them.


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