The Mystery of the Whispering Witch

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 edge of Fay’s bed. “One minute I was sound asleep, and the next minute, I thought the roof was falling in.”
    “You still haven’t told us why you screamed like that,” said Fay, who was seated beside Trixie. “What happened? What frightened you? Was it—” she hesitated—“something you heard?” Trixie wished that she could stop trembling and made another valiant effort to do so. “N-No,” she said uncertainly. “It—it wasn’t what I heard—or, at least, not just what I heard. It was something I thought I saw.” She frowned and pressed her hands together to try to prevent them from shaking. They felt as though they’d turned into two lumps of ice. She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. “Of course, I couldn’t have seen what I thought I saw. What I thought I saw was something that nobody in their right mind could see. So I couldn’t have seen it, do you see?”
    “No,” Honey said flatly. “I haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” She moved to Trixie’s armchair-bed, sat down, and tucked her legs under her. “Begin with why you were out of bed in the first place.”
    Trixie shot an apologetic look at Fay, who was, she thought, looking as upset and as apprehensive as Trixie felt.
    “I went to see if the back door was locked,” Trixie said in a rush.
    Fay looked surprised. “Why, thank you, Trixie,” she said. “That was thoughtful of you. But you didn’t need to worry, you know. That door works on a spring lock. Mother and I don’t bother about bolting that one because we know it can only be opened with a key. If only I’d known you were worried about it, I could have told you.
    Naturally, we always make sure the other outside windows and doors are safe from intruders. We don’t want anyone bursting in on us unannounced, either.”
    Trixie sighed. Why didn’t she ever give anyone else credit for a little common sense? Why did she always assume that she was the only one who had the bright ideas?
    One of these days, Trixie Belden, she thought gloomily, you're going to realize that you're not nearly as smart as you think you are. Next time Mart calls you a pea-brain, don't be so quick to disagree with him. He might be right!
    She jumped to her feet and began pacing up and down in the small space between the two beds. “I should have known there was nothing to worry about,” she said at last. “Anyway, I’d got as far as the kitchen when I noticed we’d left a light burning there. It must have happened when we were making that hot chocolate, I think. So I was about to go in and turn off the light, when—”
    She stopped suddenly as she caught sight of her new friend. Fay’s face was white as she looked up at Trixie. Her dark brown eyes looked anxious and fearful.
    Trixie was about to rush on impulsively with her story, when she noticed that, unconsciously, Fay was wringing her hands. She couldn’t help herself. She was actually wringing