Her guardian rose and began to pace the room slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned to look at her several times. Kate looked back as sincerely as she knew how.
“I do believe you,” he remarked finally. “I can see that you’re not lying.”
Kate let her breath out in relief. “Then you know I’m in danger,” she concluded. “You’ll send me away.”
“No, Miss Winslow,” countered Hugh Roberts. “I do not know that you’re in danger, but I do know that you’re sincere in your delusions. It’s obvious that your nerves have given way and left you in a frantic state. You’ve made some sort of break with reality.”
Kate rose to her feet, astounded. “Are you saying that I’ve gone mad?” she demanded.
Her guardian looked dismayed. “There’s no need to use so harsh a term,” he protested. “But we felt even before this strange outburst that your nerves were showing severe strain. You must admit, Miss Winslow, that you’ve given us cause for concern.”
Kate stared at each of them one by one. Mrs. Bigelow, fiddling anxiously with her fork and knife. Aunt Celia, face hidden behind her handkerchief. Aunt Prim, staring at the pattern on the platter with the most intense concentration. Emily, pushing a few stray peas around and around with her fork. Kate looked back up to meet her guardian’s pale-eyed stare.
“You’ve certainly given me cause for concern, too,” she remarked bitterly. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
After a half hour of frantic searching, Emily caught up with Kate. Her sister was lying in the middle of the tree circle, staring at the white clouds overhead. She sat up as Emily approached and began gathering the small lilies that grew within her reach.
“Oh, Kate, I’m so sorry,” Emily wailed miserably. “I do believe you! I do! You’re not really mad, are you?” she quavered. “I mean, I understand if you want to be …”
“Don’t be a complete goose, Em,” said Kate disgustedly. “The rest of them are bad enough.” She told her sister about the events of the previous night. Emily hugged her knees and listened carefully, not saying a single word.
“Oh, Kate,” she breathed when her sister was finished. “Your very first proposal.” Kate stared unbelievingly at the round, solemn eyes and flopped onto her back, laughing loudly. When she recovered, she attacked her little sister and tickled her unmercifully.
“How dare you,” she choked, “call that travesty a proposal! I simply can’t believe it! What an idiotic thing to say!”
“Well,” her sister sheepishly amended, brushing grass off her dress, “it was sort of like a proposal, anyway. Do you think he loves you?” she added, wide-eyed again.
“Please,” groaned Kate, lying back to look up at the clouds. “He’s not even human! He’s a grotesque monster! Weren’t you paying attention?”
“But he’s royalty! And he can do magic,” her sister pointed out excitedly. “Think how handy if you can’t light your candle in the dark.”
“And that’s exactly where I would be—in the dark.” They both sobered up, thinking about Mrs. Bigelow’s tale of the dank caves under the Hill. Kate shivered. “Imagine!” she said. “Poor Adele, shut up in a hole like that. I’d never survive it, Em. I’d die, I just know I would.” Emily took her hand and squeezed it affectionately.
“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. “It does sound terrible. But I’ll help. What do we do?”
“I don’t know,” Kate replied gloomily. “I’ve been trying to think of a plan. I know good and well that they won’t let me near the horses, and if I try to take the dogcart, they really will think I’m crazy. We’ll just have to find some way to convince Mr. Roberts and the aunts that the goblin is real.”
“I don’t know why they don’t believe you,” commented Emily. “It makes perfect sense to me.”
“We live in the nineteenth century now,” Kate mimicked her guardian in a lofty tone. Then she giggled.
“If he knows that, why’s he still wearing a wig?” demanded Emily. “I wonder if he’s completely bald without it.”
“Don’t you dare ask him,” warned her sister, standing up. “We’d better go home now and face the whispering aunts. We’ll stay together in your room tonight, and maybe I can find some way to convince them tomorrow.”
But even this simple plan proved impossible.
“You want us to do what?” Kate gasped to Prim. That dour woman held a letter out to her.
“I want you and Emily to take this message up to the Hall for me,” Prim replied defensively. “You’ll stay with Mrs. Bigelow tonight.”
“But Aunt Prim,” spluttered Kate, “you can’t possibly mean it! It’s already dark out there!”
“I certainly do mean it,” her aunt said forcefully. “Kate, I know you’re afraid of—of the dark—but Hugh suggested this, and I think it will help. You need to face your fears.”
“What?” gasped Kate. “You actually expect me to walk out this door—and face them?”
“Kate, get hold of yourself!” the old woman said firmly. “We simply can’t have another day like today.”
“Oh, you won’t!” cried Kate, snatching the letter from her. “You won’t have any more days like today ever again!” The two girls stumbled out into the night.
“This is just splendid!” snapped Kate, clutching Emily’s hand tightly. “This is simply perfect!” She stopped short at the gravel path. “Now what on earth are we going to do?”
“Run?” suggested Emily uncertainly.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Em! They have horses.”
They entered the forest. The moon, almost full, climbed a nearly cloudless sky, and Kate gathered courage from its pale rays. Bright moonlight dappled the path before them with silver spots, but under the trees, the shadows were black and ominous. After only a couple of minutes, they heard just what they had been afraid to hear: the creaking of saddles and the ringing of hooves on stone. Voices behind them began to laugh and howl.
“Come on!” Kate cried, and they did their best to run. They stumbled over roots and caught their clothes on branches. Kate lost a shoe and ran on in her stocking. The horses were almost upon them. She dragged Emily off the path into the deep shadows beside it. The horses trotted by.
“Quick!” gasped Kate. “They missed us!” She jumped to her feet with her sister in tow and ran across the path into the woods beyond. About ten feet off the path, a clearing opened up. A little woman worked in the moonlight, filling her basket with herbs and humming melodiously.
“Help!” panted the girls, dashing up. Old Agatha’s broad face and snapping black eyes turned toward them.
“Oh, look!” she cried, clapping her hands and dropping her herb-filled basket. “It’s my two pretty ladies! Now, help from what, my dears?”
Kate stopped short in horror, but Emily burst out, “Agatha, save us! The goblins are coming!” This was a rather silly speech to make, but the little woman took their trembling hands kindly enough.
“Not yet, dears,” she soothed. “Who’s been chasing my ladies?” As if in reply, they heard hooves on the path again. Kate pointed mutely toward the sound.
“Oh, that!” Agatha chuckled. “They’re no goblins! Just a couple of clodhopping humans out for a moonlight ride.”
“But they’re after us!” cried Emily. Kate nodded vigorously. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it stuck fast.
“Not for long,” declared the little woman. “Just stand still now.” She reached into one of her capacious pockets and pulled out some sort of powder, carefully patting it down into the hollow of her hand. The horses were almost upon them. Agatha took a deep breath and blew the powder toward them. The air was filled with the sound of terrified neighing and plunging, riders’ confused shouts, and snapping branches. The two horses tore off down the path to the house as if demons were after them, their riders clinging to them more by accident than skill.