White hands emerged from the folds of the cloak. Upon one finger of the left hand glistened a shining, mysterious gem of ever-changing hues. It was a rare fire opal, or girasol - the single jewel that symbolized The Shadow.
Black gloves slipped over the long, slender hands. Two automatics came into view, to be buried beneath the folds of the cloak. A hand invisibly extinguished the single light in the room. Completely obscured by darkness, the tall figure in black glided to the hallway and down the stairs.
A few minutes later, an almost imperceptible swish sounded as the cloaked being crossed the veranda. People were there; but none saw the mystic personage in their midst. A patch of black flitted across the moon- bathed grass. It was like the shadow of a passing cloud unnoticed, despite the fact that the sky was cloudless.
That phantom shape glided on, down toward the mysterious grove.
A strange personage was at work tonight. A being of invisibility was setting forth to follow the course that had taken two men to their doom.
Beside the thirteenth green, the flitting shape merged with the blackness beneath the fringe of overhanging beeches. No eye could have noted that absorption, no ear could have heard the slightest sound.
Lamont Cranston, guest at the Beechview Club, was temporarily absent. He had vanished, but a new presence had arrived. The Shadow, figure of darkness, had ventured forth into impenetrable gloom to seek the answer to the mystery that lay within the grove of beeches!
Where two men had dared by day and died, a single being was advancing through the thickness of night. The Shadow knew no fear!
Could he elude the clutch of death?
CHAPTER VI
SPECTERS OF THE NIGHT
IT was some time after midnight when Mildred Chittenden awoke from a troubled sleep. The house was strangely calm and still. Its silence was disturbing. The girl found herself wondering what had caused this sudden awakening.
During the past few nights, Mildred had been afflicted with terrifying dreams; vague nightmares that left only worried memory after the awakening. Tonight, in this quiet room, she sought to recall those dreams, but her mind was chaotic.
Listening, Mildred conjured up fanciful thoughts of unexplainable noises. These thoughts became dominating. The room was an oppressive place that seemed to hold her prisoner. The moonlight, floating in through the open window, offered solace. In a frantic effort to escape the overpowering fantasies that swept her brain, Mildred decided to go outdoors, where realities would surely overcome imagination.
Donning a dressing gown and slippers, the girl softly stole from her room and crept through the darkness of the upstairs hall. She detected a sound not far away. It seemed to come from Harvey’s room. Going close to the door, Mildred could hear the slight noise of slow, padded footfalls.
Harvey was evidently awake; if so, he would be in a disagreeable humor. To disturb him would be a mistake. Thus reasoning, Mildred turned to the stairs and descended to the first floor. Holding her fright in abeyance, she opened the front door and reached the porch.
Here, the moonlit lawn was alluring. Softly, so that she could not possibly be heard by anyone in the house, Mildred went down the steps and straight toward the placid Sound, which formed a huge pool of unrippled water. There was an obscure bench among the rocks - a spot from which Mildred had frequently looked out upon the Sound - and it was there that the girl went now.
Here, with her dark gown wrapped closely about her, Mildred reclined so motionless that no one would have detected her presence even at close range. The sight of the water made the girl restful. She fell into a drowse; then suddenly, awakened to view her surroundings in surprise.
Mildred’s head was resting upon the arm of the bench. She peered through the slats at the back, looking toward the lawn and the house beyond. All was as quiet as before. The girl’s eyes wandered; they turned directly toward the grove of beeches, a blackish mass that seemed to infringe upon the edge of lawn like some grim monster of darkness.
Spectral fantasies returned. The girl’s thoughts turned to a vivid scene in a tragedy that she had witnessed long before - in which the witches of Macbeth had raised an apparition to speak to the Scottish chief:
“- Until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill shall come -“
That grove might well be Birnam wood. Mildred half expected to see the silent mass of trees creep forward in the moonlight.
With hypnotic stare she watched the blackened edge that marked the spot where the boughs cut off the moonlight. There was a clear-cut division between the ground beneath the trees and the end of the moonlit lawn. That stretch of blackness would be the first to move!
For a few minutes the girl’s fancies continued; then they waned. Mildred seemed to see clearly again; the blackness at the side of the grove appeared quite normal, and Mildred watched in idle curiosity. A moment later, the girl experienced a startling chill. The shadow of the trees was moving at one spot - a projecting patch of blackness was creeping out upon the lawn!
GRIPPING the back of the bench, Mildred watched in stark terror. Like a living thing, the extending mass moved onward; it detached itself from the blackness of the woods, and became the shadow of a human form!
It was then that Mildred saw the being in black. So suddenly did she realize his presence that she fancied that he had grown instantaneously from the ground. Within the range of the moonlight stood a tall, unearthly figure - a weird personage garbed in jet-black cloak and topped with broad-brimmed hat.
Mildred Chittenden did not recognize The Shadow; unacquainted with the ways of the underworld, she had never learned of the terror which that solitary being could provoke. But in Mildred’s mind lay a real horror of that grove beyond the lawn; a creepy fear that recognized a menace in its midst. Here, before her staring eyes, the girl had seen a living form develop from the spell of darkness!
To Mildred, The Shadow was a specter of the night - a wanderer from unearthly domains. That form in black, more sinister than any creature of her fevered dreams, stood as proof of danger that lay within the depths of the grove.
What was its purpose here?
Mildred watched the phantom shape as it moved slowly across the lawn. It was going toward the house. It was lost beside the blackish walls of the building. Was it a menace to those who slept within the mansion?
Mildred trembled. A warning cry might suffice to save the others, but should it pass unheard, she would be at the mercy of that frightful phantom.
Half in relief, half in fright, the girl suppressed a sigh as she saw the tall black shape once more. The Shadow had made a circuit of the building. Silently, he was emerging from the darkness on the side toward the cove.
Now his form was closer; it passed across the lawn and neared the edge of the grove. Mildred fancied that she heard a low, shuddering sound - an uncanny laugh that made her tremble again.
Peering through the moonlight, the girl watched the figure as it moved away from the shore, almost a portion of the blackness by the edge of the grove. Had she not seen the form before, she could not have seen it now. As it was, her eyes barely discerned The Shadow’s progress as the black-clad visitant neared the fence that marked the limit of Lower Beechview.
Once again, the form of The Shadow was clear in the moonlight as it passed through the little gate. Then it was lost to the girl’s vision. The Shadow had gone as mysteriously as he had arrived.
Mildred Chittenden sighed at the conclusion of the ordeal. She was too weak to leave this spot of security; at the same time, she was surprised at her own bravery. After the first fright, that black-clad shape had not seemed so ominous. Its departure left the girl wondering. To her amazement, she was doubting that The Shadow was a menace.
Fantastic, yet so real that its presence could not be forgotten, the being in black had come and gone with no threatening gesture. To a certain extent, that somber form was more a guardian than foe. Mildred wondered if she had seen a ghost; if so, what its purpose could have been. Was some wandering spirit haunting this old estate?
