From out the Vasty Deep | Page 2

be a ghosty place."
There was a pause, and then Pegler added: "Still, as you and I well
know, ma'am, tales don't lose nothing in the telling."
"Indeed they don't! Never mind what the people in the village say. This
kind of strange, lonely, beautiful old house is sure to be said to be
haunted. What I want to know is what you think you saw, Pegler--" The
speaker looked sharply into the woman's face.
"I don't like to see you standing, ma'am," said Pegler inconsequently.
"If you'll sit down in your chair again I'll tell you what happened to
me."
Miss Farrow sank gracefully down into her deep, comfortable chair.
Again she put out her feet to the fire, for it was very cold on this 23rd
of December, and she knew she had a tiring, probably a boring, evening
before her. Some strangers of whom she knew nothing, and cared less,

excepting that they were the friends of her friend and host, Lionel
Varick, were to arrive at Wyndfell Hall in time for dinner. It was now
six o'clock.
"Well," she said patiently, "begin at the beginning, Pegler. I wish you'd
sit down too--somehow it worries me to see you standing there. You'll
be tempted to cut your story short."
Pegler smiled a thin little smile. In the last twelve years Miss Farrow
had several times invited her to sit down, but of course she had always
refused, being one that knew her place. She had only sat in Miss
Farrow's presence during the days and nights when she had nursed her
mistress through a serious illness--then, of course, everything had been
different, and she had had to sit down sometimes.
"The day before yesterday--that is the evening Miss Bubbles arrived,
ma'am--after I'd dressed you and you'd gone downstairs, and I'd
unpacked for Miss Bubbles, I went into my room and thought how
pleasant it looked. The curtains was drawn, and there was a nice fire, as
you know, ma'am, which Mr. Varick so kindly ordered for me, and
which I've had the whole week. Also, I will say for Annie that even if
she is a temporary, she is a good housemaid, making the girls under her
do their work properly."
Pegler drew a long breath. Then she went on again: "I sat down just for
a minute or two, and I turned over queer--so queer, ma'am, that I went
and drew the curtains of one of the windows. Of course it's a much
bigger room than I'm generally accustomed to occupy, as you know,
ma'am. And I just threw up the window--it's what they call a guillotine
window--and there I saw the water, you know, ma'am, in what they call
the moat--"
"Yes," said Miss Farrow languidly. "Yes, Pegler, go on."
"As I looked down, ma'am, I had an awful turn. There seemed to me to
be something floating about in the water, a little narrow thing like a
child's body--and--and all on a sudden a small white face seemed to
look up into mine! Oh, it was 'orrible!" Pegler did not often drop an

aitch, but when she did so forget herself, she did it thoroughly.
"As I went on looking, fascinated-like"--she was speaking very slowly
now--"whatever was down there seemed to melt away. I didn't say
nothing that evening of what had happened to me, but I couldn't keep
myself from thinking of it. Well, then, ma'am, as you know, I came and
undressed you, and I asked you if you'd like the door kept open
between our two rooms. But you said no, ma'am, you'd rather it was
shut. So then I went to bed."
"And you say--you admit, Pegler--that nothing did happen the night
before last?"
Pegler hesitated. "Nothing happened exactly," she said. "But I had the
most awful feeling, ma'am. And yes--well, something did happen! I
heard a kind of rustling in the room. It would leave off for a time, and,
then begin again. I tried to put it down to a mouse or a rat--or
something of that sort."
"That," said Miss Farrow quietly, "was probably what it was, Pegler."
As if she had not heard her lady's remark, the maid went on: "I'd go off
to sleep, and then suddenly, I'd awake and hear this peculiar rustle,
ma'am, like a dress swishing along--an old-fashioned, rich, soft silk,
such as ladies wore in the old days, when I was a child. But that dress,
the dress I heard rustling, ma'am, was a bit older than that."
"What do you mean, Pegler?"
The maid remained silent, her eyes were fixed; it was as if she had
forgotten where she was.
"And what exactly happened last night?"
"Last night," said Pegler, drawing a long breath, "last night, ma'am--I
know you won't believe me--but