"Charles!" she screamed; but the sound of her own voice, echoing about her. frightened her so much that she pressed her lips together lest any sound escaped to terrify her.

She did not know what to do. A sob shook her. She began wildly kicking the door again, but the hollow sound of her kicks echoed through the place as her voice had done.

"Mammal Mammal' The words must escape. She shut her eyes and began to pray.

"I did not want to come here. I took only one small piece of sugar yesterday. It was not I who put my finger in the apple jelly. I did not. I did not! If I could get out of here. I would never do anything wrong again. I would never make faces at anyone... not even Jennifer...”

What was that? Only some small animal scuttling along down there in the gloom. She started to shiver, and her face was wet, but not with tears, for strangely she had shed no tears. Tears were soft and comforting things, and there was no comfort for her in this dark place.

Would they come out of their coffins? What would they look like? She shut her eyes tightly. I will not look at them... I will not look.

Perhaps they would force her to open her eyes, and they would be horrible ... horrible and angry with her for coming into their house.

"Oh, let me out. let me out!" she sobbed.

She found she was lying on the damp ground, her head pressed against the door, her hands over her ears, great sobs shaking her. Something must happen soon. Now she lifted her hands; she must hear. She was sure strange noises were going on all about her. Was it better to hear or not to hear? To see or not to see?

A ghostly voice whispered: "Carolan!”

She trembled.

"Carolan!" said the voice again. She stared at the entrance to the room which was the home of the dead, and she heard the voice again: "Carolan! Carolan! Are you there. Carolan?”

It was Everard's voice, coming through the door, and she was almost fainting with the joy of hearing Everard's voice; but she could not speak though her lips were moving. Frantically she tried to find her voice; he would go away: and he would leave her. He was there, but she had lost her voice and could not call to him.

"Carolan! Carolan. Are you there, Carolan?" She tried to get to her feet, but she was shaking so much she could not stand.

"Please..." she managed to utter, but her teeth chattered, and the words could not come out.

She tried again and again, and then she heard Everard's footsteps going away.

Despair seized her. She could shriek now.

"Everard! Everard! I am here. Oh, please get me out, Everard!”

But she was too late, for he had gone, and she would have to stay here all the night. The night? But here in this dark place it was always night. There was the faintest gleam of comfort in the thought, and it gave her the courage to raise herself and to turn her gaze on the dark entrance to the room.

It began again now the staring about, the closing of her eyes; one moment alert, the next shutting out all sound and all sight.

Every movement about her set her heart pounding afresh. Sometimes it was the rustle of the trees outside; sometimes it was the call of a bird.

"Everard, come back." she prayed.

"I can talk now ... I can talk." And she went on talking, just to assure herself that her voice was still hers to command.

Surely Everard would come back! Why had he said her name if he had not thought she might be there?

"Carolan!" A key turned in the lock, and Everard almost fell over her, lying there. He picked her up. She stared at him, still terrified, wondering if one of the dead ones had come for her and, as an additional torture, had made himself look like Everard. Everard sat down on the top step, just as though it was anybody's step, and held her in his arms. She thought he looked frightened, but she only seemed to see things through a haze.

He said: "Everything is all right now, Carolan. I am taking you out of here.”

She was shaking so much she could not answer him. He was very tender, Jennifer said he was a mollycoddle. He did not play games; he liked his books; one day he would be a parson like his father, and write sermons all day long. But one thing Carolan knew instinctively about Everard; he would never lock frightened little girls in with the dead; and to Carolan, newly released from hell, he was wonderful.

He went on talking while she lay in his arms, which was just what she wanted him to do.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, Carolan. The dead cannot hurt anyone; besides, they are your own dead here. They would love you if they were alive, just as people at home love you.”

Just as people at home loved her? Charles? Jennifer? The squire? But did it matter what Everard said! She only wanted his protecting arms round her and to listen to his soothing voice.

"There!" said Everard softly, like somebody's mother. There! You feel better now.”

Then her tears began to fall, and she could not stop them.

"Oh, I say!" cried Everard in real dismay.

"Oh, I say, you know, it is all right now, you know.”

But she could not stop the tears, and to show him that they were not really sad tears she began to laugh, and she was laughing and crying all at once, which frightened Everard. He kept saving her name.

"Carolan! Carolan!" and rocking her to and fro as though she were a baby. And eventually she stopped laughing and was only crying. Then Everard said: "I hope I have hurt him badly, I do!" She was so interested that she stopped crying and asked: "Who, Everard?”

"Charles!" said Everard.

"Let us get away from this place. We ought not to have stopped here; it is a dismal hole.”

They went out and he locked the door after him. She stared round-eyed at the key.

He said: "Your eyes are red!" And she began to sniff again. Then he added: "I don't mind admitting I should not have liked being shut in there alone myself... much.”

And saying that was almost as wonderful as letting her out. He was twelve years old and she was five, and yet she felt a wonderful companionship spring up between them.

She could see the sunshine glinting through the trees, and she stared up at it, at the lovely sun itself. And when she blinked and shut her eyes she saw red suns on her lids, as though it were saying to her: "It is all right. It is all right. You see I am here, even when you shut your eyes!" And she was suddenly wonderfully happy; she leaped up and kissed Everard. He did not much like being kissed by a little girl of five, but he was faintly aware of the charm of Carolan, of green eyes shining between swollen lids and a sweet and tremulous baby mouth.

"I say." he said.

"I say!" and wiped off Carolan's kiss, smiling at her as he did so to show that he was not as annoyed as he might easily have been.

"You should bathe your eyes," he said.

"I will take you to the pump in the yard, shall I?”

She nodded. Willingly she would have followed Everard to the end of the world.

Just as, a little while ago, everything had been dark tragedy, now everything was very gay or extremely comic. She laughed when Everard pumped the water and gave her a lace-edged handkerchief, which she held under the water. Then he stopped pumping, and said: "Here! Give it to me." And he took it and bathed her face with it, and again she thought he was like somebody's mother.

"Everard," she asked him, 'how did you get the key?”

"I knew he had it," he told her, and that was another delightful characteristic of Everard's; he did not say, as the others would: "Oh, shut up, baby." or "You wouldn't understand." Everard went on: "He showed it to me this afternoon. Then, when I saw him without you and asked where you were, he looked sly and I guessed: so I came and called you, and when you did not answer I was afraid you had fainted.”

"I did not faint," said Carolan proudly, 'but when I tried to speak my voice would not come.”

"Well," he said, 'you are all right now." She leaped high into the air to show him that she was indeed all right. She was happier than she had been all the afternoon or for many days; she was not sure why, but she was a mercurial little creature, often very sad, often very happy; but rarely had she been as happy as she was now. Perhaps it was because Everard, twelve years old and admired and respected by the others, was being so kind to her.

While they were at the pump, Charles and Margaret came up. There was a cut right across Charles's forehead and it was bleeding. Charles and Everard glowered at each other, and Margaret looked frightened.

Everard said contemptuously: "You can say you fell over one of the tombstones and cut your forehead. Carolan can say she was with you and she fell first, and you went down after her. That will do.”

He went on bathing Carolan's eyes, and there was a deep silence. After a while they went into the house.

Mrs. Orland was distressed that the children had come to harm at her house. She bathed Charles's forehead and looked in dismay at the strange appearance of Carolan. She sat down and wrote a note to Kitty, which when she had summoned Jennifer from Mrs. Privett's room she gave to her to take to her mistress.

Everard said: "It is nothing much, Mamma!" and Mrs. Orland said: "For shame, Everard! Your guests ...!" Then Mr. Orland left his sermon for a little while and came out to say a few words before they left, but he noticed nothing unusual. Mr. Orland would not notice, Margaret had once said, if you walked on all fours. It was altogether a most exciting afternoon for Carolan, until they were riding home in the carriage; then her elation vanished.