The Open Question Part 14

Then a string of undistinguishable words, ending with something like--

"Oh, mighty keerful All roun' de body ob de Lawd, We done been a wrappin'

A w'ite linen napkin All round de body ob de Lawd.

He said He'd bring a sword, An' no mo' peace on de earf!"

There was a wild melancholy in the air that made the child's heart tremble in his breast. Particularly on wet days, when he couldn't go down into the wilderness, he used to stand in the doorway with the d.u.c.h.ess in his arms, listening with all his ears.

"An' Jerusha," he said, one morning during a thunderstorm, when she polished the oak in persistent silence, "why don't you sing? Grandmamma can't hear."

"No, Ma.s.sa Efan, not to-day."

"Why not? This is just the day to, when the rain's makin' such a noise you can sing as loud as you like."

"Yo' won't nebber ketch dis n.i.g.g.e.r raisin' no chunes on de twenty-firs'

ob July."

"Why not?"

"Don' you know, little ma.s.sa, dis de day yo' fader died?"

"Oh-h, is it?" A silence of some moments, broken only by the dash of summer rain against the window-pane. "Did you know my father when he was quite little?"

"Law, yes, littler'n you--so little, he couldn't walk by hisself. De firs' time I done lef' him, jes' fur a minute, standin' in de big arm-cheer by de winder, he turn roun' w'en he see I wusn't holdin' on t'

him, an' he yelled like forty--" She chuckled proudly, stopped suddenly, and held out timid arms and made a baby face. "'Ow! ow! Efan fall--Efan _bake_!'" She relaxed into smiles again. "Break he meant, yo' see. He'd seen pitchers and china dolls and sich like fallin' and smas.h.i.+n' ter bits, and he wus 'feared dat's wot would happen t' him."

She went on chuckling a moment, and then fell unaccountably to weeping.

The thunder crashed and the wind blew loud. It lashed the great tulip-tree with fury. Ethan laid his face against the velvet back of the d.u.c.h.ess. Aunt Jerusha wept audibly. Ethan felt rather low in his mind himself.

"Where does this door out here lead to?" he said, feeling the need of a diversion.

"Unner dem front stehs."

"Oh, does it go under the stairs?"

"Yes; but don' yo' go dah, honey."

"Why not?"

"It ain't a berry cheerin' kin' ob a place."

"Dirty?"

"Spec's so."

"I've noticed Venie always _runs_ past that door. It can't be 'cause it's dirty."

"No, honey; no."

"An' Jerusha, Venie told me yesterday when grandmamma first came here she couldn't get any servants to sleep in this house, and that was why she had to send for Venie."

"Don' yo' min' Venus; she's misleadin'."

"Well, but I asked Mr. Hall while he was cutting the gra.s.s, and he said _he_ wouldn't like to live here, and he looked at the house in such a funny kind o' way."

"Huh! yo' mus'n't listen to po' w'ite trash."

"Then you'd better tell me, or I'll ask everybody."

"No, no, honey. Yo' grandma would be hoppin' mad ef yo' should git dem iggorant p.u.s.s.ens t' gabbin' agin."

"Then you'd just better tell me, and it'll be a secret, please, An'

Jerusha."

"Well, dey _do_ say, Ma.s.sa Efan, dis yer house am hanted."

"Hanted? What's that?"

Aunt Jerusha rolled her eyes cautiously over her shoulder and lowered her voice.

"Got ghos'es."

"Under the front stairs?" whispered Ethan, quickly withdrawing from that proximity.

Aunt Jerusha nodded.

"Did you ever see one?"

"Law, yes; oncet or twicet."

"What was it like?"

"Like de debbil in a night-gown. Hark! Yo' heah dat?"

"Yes; oh, what was it?" Ethan was nearer Aunt Jerusha in his alarm than he had ever ventured before.

"Dat's de bad ghos' under de stehs. De fust fall we come heah he done groan and _gro-o-an_ like dat all de time. He been mighty still now fur a spell. Hark! yo' heah dat?"

Ethan was horribly conscious of a hideous noise somewhere in front of the dining-room.

"_I_ think he's in the parlor," he whispered, when he could command his emotions sufficiently for speech.

"No, no; I used t' 'spect he was dah, but dat's jus' his being so cute, he didn' want n.o.body to know he was unner de front stehs. Come into de kitchen, Ma.s.sa Efan, and I'll gib yo' a cinnamon roll."

It is useless to pretend that Ethan was a stout-hearted young gentleman.

From infancy he had been a prey to a thousand unseen terrors having for the most part quite respectable Christian name and origin, such as the "worm that dieth not," "the thief in the night," the "great red dragon"

of the Revelation, and "the beast with seven heads." But there are some terrors that need no inculcating. It occurred to him now that the ghost under the stairs was called Yaffti. Why "Yaffti" he could not have told, or what suggested the name to him; but Yaffti was angry when people, especially little boys, walked over his head without saying: