HAUNTED GROUND

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20734, 18 February 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)

HAUNTED GROUND

(Continued from last week) Wendy, looking at Sybil, thought there was already a remarkable change in her. They had walked from the bus-stop along a lane, until now they were on the summit of quite a high hill that gave them a view, to the east, of a valley, and to the other points of the compass higher hills. Wendy, now, had called a halt for a snack, and they needed it. There was plenty of daylight, so they could go a good way farther yet without turning; and Wendy, in case, had a plan which would enable them to make the rail cr* bus Journey home from another equally suitable point. "Yes, it has been very nice,” admitted Sybil. "Delightful 1 I’m really glad I came. But where is Peachely?” Wendy looked about her, hair blowing in the keen breeze. "Let's see. Uml Over there, beyond that hill." "Then why don't we go on?" said Sybil, frowning. "After a snack, we can,” said Wendy. "But there's no desperate hurry. Peachely is just the centre I marked out on the map. It’s in the middle of this rather wild country, and we always like a destination.” ‘"There's a shepherd. Ask him." "A shepherd—good!” said Sybil, and hurried towards the man. "Could you please tell me where Peachely is?" she said. The shepherd turned and pointed with his crook. "Be over there," he said. "Not fur, young lady.” "And Peachely Manor?” said Sybil, a little breathlessly. The shepherd knit his brows, and then shook his head. "Ain't never heard of ’un," he said. "What? Not heard of it! But surely—you must be quite old ?” said Sybil, amazed. “It was there in your lime. People were living there. Why, tny grandfather lived there!"

The shepherd stared at her. "Sixty-eight I be,” he said, looking at her keenly. “A ripe age, and I bain’t heered of no Peachely Manor, and all my life I’ve lived here, man and boy." Sybil bit her lip, and Wendy saw disappointment keenly marked on her face. "Then there must be two Peachelys," she said. "Because if the Manor were here, you’d know it all right. I’ve heard it's quite legendary—haunted, bats flying in it.” The shepherd stiffened. "It’s right you are, young lady," he said. "You mean the Wright’s Ruin; that’s what we call it. But, right enough, it were the Manor once. But you’re not a Peachely Wright, miss?" he added, in awe. "I am," said Sybil, in low tone. "And coming back?” he said, in greater awe. "Why, it's said that if ever Wright sets foot in the ruin, the walls will tumble in and crush ’un!” Wendy sprang up as she saw Sybil sway. The girl had gone deathly pale. "Sybil, don’t believe such nonsense," she said, and frowned at the shepherd. “It's just utter bosh!" "Bosh it may be," said the shepherd, "but there's some things we bain't be meant to understand. Tell me for why there's bogland creeping up to the ruin? My sheep have bin lost In it. There was a cow drapped down in it. Ay, and one day the whole house will sink from sight—when there are no more Wrights.” Sybil, pushing Wendy away, cried out in anguish. "But what horrible thing did we do to deserve it? What evil did we do to have such a curse " The shepherd shook his head. **lt was the old man—the old squire." he said. "He walks the place now; he'll never go to rest. There was something he was trying to say the minute afore he died. He never said it, and now he's walking around up and down Sybil's hands were clasped. Her face* was chalk-white. "I must go there,” she said. "I shall never know peace until 1 do. Ifs a lie —it's just a silly, crazy story; but l must go there and prove it—prove it —’ , . . „ Her voice was rising hysterically, and Wendy caught her arm. "Sybil, Sybil, for goodness sake, she said imploringly. gvbil shook herself and oas calmer. She turned from the shepherd who stood eyeing her. gaping as though, because she was a Wright there was something odd aoom hei, as though she were an exhibit. -Listen,- said Sybil, who had been Wtanding with folded arms. "I think I had better go on alone. I have a feeling—a strong feeling—a premonition Something terrible is going to happen. I can feel it in my bones. I mean it. Don't come with me. Lmust

(By Elizabeth Chester.)

go—there—because I must. But don't you come.” Wendy took her by the shoulder, then pulled her back so that she tottered and fell into a sitting posure. "You're coming with us,” said Wendy flrmlv. "Where there are no bogs, no houses that fall in with a shattering crash, and no ghosts tramping ceaselessly.” "Hear, hear,” said Jill and Fay together. Then Jill gave Sybil some sandwiches, and Fay opened her flask of hot tea. Sybil shook herself, and seemed to come out of a trance, and presently she was joining in their chatter. She ate a quite good snack, to% but she preferred to lean back and close her eyes while Fay, Wendy and Jill gathered around a small wildflower, examining it closely and discussing It. "What do you think about it, Sybil?” asked Wendy, suddenly turning round. She stared at the place where Sybil had lain. But no Sybil was there. "Goodness! She's gone I” gasped Wendy. She looked right and left, in all directions; she called, but no reply came. It was as though Sybil had really been swallowed up by the earth, even as the shepherd * had said his sheep had been. In growing panic all three searched, and then suddenly Jill pointed to a distant figure which had just come into view on the opposite hillside— Sybil running, stumbling. She looked back, waved, and then pointed ahead ovel* the hill to Peachely —and Wright’s Ruin. CHAPTER 11. Peril in the Ruins "There’s rain coming,” said Wendy. She glanced up at the heavy sky. A storm was threatening; and the sky, which had been so clear, was darkening over in sinister manner. Pausing for a while they listened, for Jill claimed that she had heard thunder. But all that came to them was the music of running water, a hillside burn of ice cold water that twisted and rippled and plaited itself over small rock/. It was the one sound in the great waste of space. Wendy and Co. had climbed the far hill as soon as they had gathered their things together again; and now were in pursuit of Sybil. Experienced climbers, they had taken a rather shorter, quicker course, and Wendy had hoped that when they did reach the peak they would see Sybil not far away. Now, on the very top of the high mound, they saw her moving down to the beg. Wendy glanced ahead, beyond the bog, to the small village with its rather gaunt stone houses. Beyond them her eyes rested on what had once been a proud mansion. It stood on the crest of another hill, with barren trees behind and a broken wall around. The roof had tumbled in, and the windows were smashed. A wall had cracked right across and might fall at any moment. "Must have been a fine old place—once,” said Fay in awe. "Wright’s Ruin. It’s a .ruin. No mistake about that."

"I wouldn't go in that place for a fortune,” shivered Jill. "And if Sybil’s crazy enough—let her go.” Wendy moved forward. "Come on,” she said briskly. "We persuaded her to come; it’s our responsibility.” Wendy hurried down the slope, and Jill and Fay followed. “Sybil! Come back!" called Wendy. "There's another way round." Sybil shouted to her in return. “I'm going alone. 1 don't want you. Go hack. I'm all right.” Wendy hurried on, unheeding. For she knew from experience that ahead lay dangerous ground. Sybil avoided the obvious marsh. She* went where it seemed safe. But there, of course* the ground, seeming firm, invited pressure. No sooner was the whole weight of the body imposed on it than the ground wouid open, slowly, slowly with powerful suction. Wendy ran like mad: but Sybil was already 'walking on the treacherous ground, taking the short cut straight to the Ruin. A man standing outside one of the ages shouted and waved his arms: but he was too far away to be heard, and anyway Wendy could guess tiiat he was warning them of the bog. Suddenly Sybil gave a gasp of fright. "O-oh—look out, Wendy. It’s soft here!” (To be continued)