There was a deep silence, in reverence for a memory of the departed. It was Jessica herself who broke the silence at last.
“And now⸺” she queried on a rising voice.
“And now,” said Val, “if we’re all through eating, I move that we all go out to Mount Monroe just as quickly as that old flivver can jerk us out there, collect your money—and go back to New York.”
“And Ignace⸺” objected Jessica.
“He won’t know where we are, I think,” said Val. “We don’t have to go near the cottage to get to Mount Monroe, do we?”
“No—we can get to it from the other direction,” said Jessica—“from the side on which the old haunted house stands.”
“All right,” directed Val. “It won’t take long—we can go right out, get the loot, and get back here probably in an hour.” The party rose simultaneously, while Val laid a bill on the table to pay for the meal.
Suddenly he saw Jessica grow pale; the mask of fear crept over her countenance again as she stared, fascinated, at the door. Instinctively, everybody turned to the door, drawn by her fixed look.
Bulked in the doorway, smiling upon them pleasantly, was the great figure of Ignace Teck.
