It was when they were at supper that Lord Yalding suddenly
appeared, and said: "Mr. Jefferson Conway wants you boys to
spend the night with him in the state chamber. I've had beds put
up. You don't mind, do you? He seems to think you've got some
idea of playing ghost-tricks on him."
It was difficult to refuse, so difficult that it proved impossible.
Ten o clock found the boys each in a narrow white bed that looked
quite absurdly small in that high, dark chamber, and in face of that
tall gaunt four-poster hung with tapestry and ornamented with
funereal-looking plumes.
"I hope to goodness there isn't a real ghost," Jimmy whispered.
"Not likely," Gerald whispered back.
"But I don't want to see Sir Rupert's ghost with its head under its
arm," Jimmy insisted.
"You won't. The most you'll see'll be the millionaire seeing it.
Mabel said he was to see it, not us. Very likely you'll sleep all
night and not see anything. Shut your eyes and count up to a
million and don't be a goat!"
As soon as Mabel had learned from her drab-haired aunt that this
was indeed the night when Mr. Jefferson D. Conway would sleep
at the castle she had hastened to add a wish, "that Sir Rupert and
his head may appear tonight in the state bedroom."
Jimmy shut his eyes and began to count a million. Before he had
counted it he fell asleep. So did his brother.
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