Presently she knocked again. He made an attempt at ventriloquy,
saying in a voice to sound farther off than it was, "Come in." A
hand rose to the latch, and opened the door. By the hand he knew it
was lady Arctura.
"Welcome to the stormy sky, my lady!" he said, as he entered the
room after her--a pleasant object after his crawling excursion!
She started a little at his voice behind her, and turning was more
startled still.
Donal was more like a chimney-sweep than a tutor in a lord's castle.
He was begrimed and blackened from head to foot, and carried a
pailful of coals and wood. Reading readily her look, he made haste
to explain.
"I have been on the roof for the last hour," he said.
"What were you doing there," she asked, with a strange mingling of
expressions, "in such a night?"
"I heard the music, my lady--the ghost-music, you know, that haunts
the castle, and--"
"I heard it too," she murmured, with a look almost of terror. "I
have often heard it before, but never so loud as to-night. Have you
any notion about it, Mr. Grant?"
"None whatever--except that I am nearly sure it comes from somewhere
about the roof."
"If you could clear up the mystery!"
"I have some hope of it.--You are not frightened, my lady?"
She had caught hold of the back of a chair.
"Do sit down. I will get you some water."
"No, no; I shall be right in a moment!" she answered.
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