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just
allowing a dim glow by which people could find their way to one of the
bathrooms in the night if needs be. The flames of the lamps flickered, casting
shadows on the wall. Far away, in the back of the house, Caroline thought she
heard laughter, and guessed it came from the servants, relaxing after a busy
day caring for the guests. The noise quickly died down and the house fell into
total silence. As she neared the ballroom, she became acutely aware of every sound,
every flicker of the light. She heard a door slam somewhere behind her and
almost jumped out of her skin. “Pull yourself together, Caroline,” she
whispered.
    She was relieved to see that
the ballroom lights were still lit, perhaps because the servants had not yet
finished clearing away. That gave her extra courage, as it meant someone would
be along soon. She went back to where Mrs Oakengate had been sitting, and found
her spectacle case on the small round table. Turning around to leave, Caroline
suddenly found the room pitched into darkness. The lamps were still lit, but
turned so low as to have very little impact on the surrounding area. The only
other light came from the hallway, which cast only a small crescent shaped
light near to the open door.  
    “Hello?” she said. “Is
anyone there?”
    She felt afraid to move, in
case she tripped over something, but concentrated on the light near the door as
a target for which to aim. Suddenly she heard three loud thumps emanating up
from the floor.   A gust of wind blew one
of the curtains near to her, so that for a brief moment she saw the misty moon
shining on the glass, and something else. A faint outline on the glass as if
someone were looking in. Then the curtain closed again and all was in darkness.
She spun around, trying to see who or what was there, but then the lights came
back up again, and she saw that she was completely alone.
                Her heart pounded, and she almost jumped out of her skin
when the butler Stephens entered the ballroom. “Are you alright, Miss Conrad?”
                “Yes, yes, I er … Stephens all the lights just went out
in here.”
                “Did they, Miss?”
                “Yes, but they’re all separate, aren’t they? So they can
only be turned down one by one.”
                “Unless one does it at the mains tap, Miss.”
                “The mains tap? Where is that?”
                “Why, it’s down in the cellar.”
                “But surely turning off the mains would turn off all the
gaslights. The ones in the hall stayed on.”
                “Not necessarily, Miss. There are several taps, serving
different parts of the house – I’m afraid I don’t understand much of it, but I
believe it’s to do with when extra rooms and wings were added late in the
nineteenth century. This ballroom is one of the newer rooms. We tend to switch
most of the taps when the house is locked up and there is only skeleton staff,
so that it saves on gas and helps prevents fire.”
                Caroline slipped Mrs Oakengate’s spectacle case into the
pocket of her skirt and sat down on one of the seats. Stephens put dirty
glasses onto a tray, then went to a closet at the far end of the room and took
out a broom. He started to sweep the floor.
                “Have you been here a long time, Stephens?”
                “Since the young master’s grandfather was a baby, Miss,”
he said, pausing in his labours. “I was a young man myself then, not much more
than twelve years old. I came here as a footman.”
                “So someone does live in this house then?”
                “Oh yes, Miss. The master spends summers here and winters
abroad. The house is usually closed up for winter, but the master will hire it
out for parties such as this. It gives the house an airing, you see.”