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River?” Honey asked, still anxious to make amends for upsetting Fay in the first place.
    She seemed greatly relieved when their new friend assured her that any more stories could wait until the following morning.
    Almost before Trixie and Fay had had time to blink, Honey had hurried to her own bed, had pulled the covers up to her chin, and was snuggling deep into her pillow.
    “I am a little tired,” she said apologetically and closed her eyes. Soon she was breathing deeply.
    “Is she asleep?” Fay asked softly.
    Trixie chuckled. “I’d say she’s good for at least eight hours.” She smoothed the blankets on the old armchair, then climbed between them once more.
    “Good night, Trixie, and thank you,” Fay called quietly as she reached for the light switch beside her bed. “Are you sure you’re comfortable? Would you like to change places with me?”
    “Don’t worry,” Trixie said, yawning. “It doesn’t matter to me where I sleep, and tonight I won’t need any rocking. I’m much too tired.”
    Fay sighed. “I wish I were. As it is, I’m sure I’m going to do nothing but wonder how Mother is doing at the hospital, and, what’s more....”
    Fay stopped talking.
    Trixie frowned and raised herself up onto one elbow. “And? Fay? And what?”
    There was no answer. All Trixie could hear was the rhythmic sound of deep, heavy breathing. And now it came not only from Honey’s bed, but from Fay’s as well.
    Trixie chuckled, tucked her legs under her, shifted her pillow, and settled herself down to sleep.
    Ten minutes later, she realized that the armchair was just as uncomfortable as Fay had guessed it would be. No matter which way she turned, a part of Trixie stuck over or under a part of the chair.
    Too, she had to admit to herself that she was worried. There was something about their new friend that made Trixie feel uneasy. It was as if Fay were hiding something—some knowledge that she didn’t yet want to share.
    It was certainly unfortunate that Fay had already learned of the curse of Lisgard House. It had seemed to upset her, Trixie thought.
    She sighed, turned over, and for the tenth time, rearranged the blankets that kept slipping to the floor.
    Again and again, Trixie’s thoughts returned to the strange figure she’d seen outside the house. She remembered the mysterious voice she’d heard when she stood alone in the kitchen. Who or what was it?
    All at once, Trixie remembered something else and sat bolt upright. She had meant to see if the back door was locked and bolted.
    In another instant, she had slipped from between the blankets and was feeling her way along the dark passage toward the back door.
    She thought at first that her eyes had become adjusted extra quickly to the gloom around her. Then she realized that there was a dim, shimmering light coming from the open kitchen door off the passage.
    When she poked her head around it to see, she noticed that Fay had failed to turn off a small light over the stove.
    Trixie meant to go and turn it off, but at that moment, there was a small movement in the hallway behind her.
    She gasped and, whirling toward it, saw a sight that took her breath away.
    A strange figure stood by .the back door. The outlines of it were fuzzy, almost as if Trixie were seeing it through some sort of distorted lens.
    It wore a tall, pointed hat. It wore a black cloak that reached almost to the floor.
    As Trixie watched, frozen to the spot, it raised an arm. Trixie saw one long, bony finger pointing straight at her.
    Then the terrible figure spoke.
    “ Beware !” it whispered. “Beware!”
    And then it vanished.
    Trixie took a faltering step forward—and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Night of Terror! ● 5

    BACK IN FAY’S ROOM only minutes later, Trixie was still struggling to recover her composure as her two worried friends watched her anxiously.
    “I still don’t understand what happened, Trix,” Honey declared, looking down at her friend as she sat on the