THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS CASTLE

Waikato Times, Volume 125, Issue 20911, 16 September 1939, Page 19 (Supplement)

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS CASTLE

CHAPTER L Mystery Castle I How lovely I An invitation to the castle I" Joan Wentworth's eyes were sparkling with excitement as she gave vent oi the joyous exclamation. Al-oft she waved a letter that had just been delivered. Her companions, Joyce Milton and Fay Hutchings, stared at her in amazement. “But, the castle’s empty—has been for years,” objected Joyce. “Are you having one of your little jokes, Joan?” Joan laughed happily. “No Joke about ibis,” 6he told them. “Listen I” She cleared her throat with mock Importance, struck an attitude and commenced to read from the letter. “ ‘Dear Joan Wentworth, I am a friend of Maisie Price—Maisie is in my form at school.’ ” put in Joan, pausing for a moment in her reading—” ‘and have come to Abbey Castle to live, with my very deaf grandfather—you see, I have no father and mother. I’m awfully lonely, and •would so love you to come and see me. Bring your friends, too—lots of them, please. We only came here yesterday, and I know it’s awfully 6hori notice. But really, I do want to have & party for Christmas. You know everyone so Maisie says. Do come—as soon as you get this, if possible. Yours sincerely, Doreen Noble.’ There, what do you tl?ink of that?” added Joan delightedly. “I’ve always wanted to roam all over my Christmas Castle.” "She sounds frißhtly sort of in a hurry—what?” Pay remarked with a furrowed brow. With one accord they turned and looked through the drawing-room window of Joan's comfortable home. There, two miles distant, silhouetted against the feeble rays of the setting sun, was the Abbey Castle. “Rather as if she wrote when feeling scared —about something,” Joyce murmured, her eyes on the distant edifice. Joan laughed again. “Getting on that old ghost hobby horse again?” she chaffed. Fay shrugged. “After all, people about here say it is haunted —and there is the legend, y’know—w'hat ?” “Which one?” smiled Joan, folding the letter and replacing it in the envelope. “I’ve heard dozens of them. Coming?” •Her friends stared. “Where?” they demanded in unison. “To the castle, of course,” returned Joan. “You’re surely not going out there now?” gasped Fay. “Why not? The poor child begs us to go as soon as we got the letter.’” “Oh, wait until the morning.” Joyce suggested timidly, trying to make her tone off-handed. “Tonight—tonight, as ever was!” said Joan determinedly. “And if you’re frightened, my dears, then I shan't mind going by myself. I—’’ "Tosh I” “Rot!" With one accord the friends made for the door, Joyce Hushing a little. In five minutes time they were walking over the frosty snow, taking a short cut to the distant castle. By the time they reached the snowcovered gates leading into the grounds dusk had fallen. The silence was broken only by the crunch of the crisp snow beneath their Wellingtons. Then with one accord, they stopped in their tracks, for quivering on the chill evening air, sounded a long-drawn-out cry. \nd it cam© from !he direction of Joan's Christmas Casllel “Come along,” breathed Joan, as tile cry died away. “Something’s the "^Fay’ broke into a run, and Joyce, dAaidAdiv iinwillinarlv. followed suit.

Not for her weight In gold would she hav© let Joan and Fay see that she was scared. Through the snow they dashed, to,, come within sight of the drawbridge, which was down. Across they raced, then Joan who was leading, uttered a cry. For there, lying full-letniglh on the step leading into the hall, was a girl of about thetir own age. At first Joan thought she had fainted; but as she dropped down beside her, Doreen opened her eyes. “Oh,” she whispered. “Thank goodness someone’s here. The ghost—the ghost—in there!" Joan looked into the hall through the open doorway; Then she caught her breath in sharply. For, even as she looked, a strange grey shape that was indefinable, seemed to fade from sight at the far end of the hall. Joan’s eyes narrowed. She knew that she had made no mistake. It had been no trick of her eyesight. The shape definitely had been there—sinister, lingering, gradually to fade away as if dissolved into thin airl

(Tc be continued.)