went.
Were he back in his own land once more, those who knew of such things would speedily beware of the Khon by instinct alone and would take steps to separate Hob from his new master. But in this country Thragun had no idea of who might be approached.
Mrs. Cobb, who had first made him aware of Hob's existence? Somehow Thragun believed that she would not be able to handle Hob as a Khon. And he knew that most of the other servants were afraid of even mentioning Hob himself. He was a legend within these walls but also something to be feared.
Thragun headed for his place on Emmy's bed. In all his time he had never seen a one with the old knowledge such as could stand against a Khon.
'No!' Emmy twisted, her face showed fear and she cried out again, even louder, 'No!'
Then her eyes opened and she looked at Thragun as if he were the Khon in person.
'It-' she began when there resounded through the house, loud enough to reach them in spite of the thickness of the walls, a heavy crash. Emmy screamed.
'It'll get me-it'll get me!'
'Emmy!' Miss Lansdall had come so quickly from her own bedchamber next door that her dressing gown was half off her shoulders, dragging on the floor. 'Emmy-what is-'
She had no chance to finish her question. From behind the half open door of her own room sounded a second crash which certainly was that of broken glass.
Emmy cowered down in the bed and held fast to Thragun in a way he would have speedily resented if conditions were as usual.
Miss Lansdall looked back into her own room. She swayed and nearly dropped the candle she had brought with her.
'No!' she echoed Emmy's cry of a moment earlier. An object hurtled out of the bedroom, to smash against Emmy's door and fall to the floor with a crackle of broken china. There followed a heavy scent of violets. Thragun realized that Miss Lansdall had just been deprived of one of her most prized possessions-something Emmy had always regarded with delight-a slender bottle painted with the violets whose perfume sheltered within. There came a second crash and again something flew through the air. Miss Lansdall cried out in pain, the candle fell from her grip and hit the carpet, its hot grease spattering, and then flame flickered in the floor covering itself.
Miss Lansdall threw herself forward. Awkwardly she grabbed one-handed for the pitcher of water on the wash- stand and threw it at the beginning blaze. Her other arm hung by her side and in the limited light from the window, Thragun could see a spreading splotch of blood seeping through her dressing gown sleeve.
Emmy screamed again. Now there were answering noises from down the hall.
The gleam of another candle gave better light to the scene. Miss Lansdall had not risen from her knees though the small flame on the carpet was quenched. She nursed her arm against her and her eyes were wide with fear.
Captain Wexley paused a moment at the door, then strode to her.
'What's all this?' he asked sharply, and then, seeing the blood on Miss Lansdall's arm, he looked to his daughter.
'Ring for help, Emmy. Miss Lansdall has been hurt.' He helped the governess to a chair and then took up one of Emmy's own petticoats laid out for morning wearing to loop it around the bloody arm.
Miss Lansdall was shaking as she looked up at her employer.
'Sir-it flew at me and-'
Before she could explain further, there came a loud clap of noise as if a door had been opened with such fury that it had struck the wall. That was followed moments later by an explosion.
'What-' Captain Wexley turned as there came a scream and some cries from down the hall. 'What in the name of-' he bit off what he was about to say and ended-'is happening.'
'My room,' Miss Lansdall had reached out her good hand and taken a tight hold of the rich brocade sleeve of the Captain's dressing robe. 'Everything-smashed!'
'Captain, sir-!' Lasha came into view, carrying a candelabra with four candles lit. 'In your chamber-your pistol-it is in the fireplace and there is much damage-a mirror, your small horse from China -'
Hastings reached them next and then Jennie and Meggy, with quilts pulled around their shoulders. Both of them let out startled cries as there were muffled sounds of more destruction sounding down the length of the hall.
Thragun listened closely. It certainly seemed that the Khon was taking Hob through a rampage of damage, striking at every room.
Strike at most of the chambers he had. China lay smashed, mirrors were shattered, draperies were pulled from their rods, even small chairs and tables were turned upside down. Miss Lansdall was not the only one who suffered personal attack either. Mrs. Cobb, drawn by the uproar, swore that something had caught her by the ankle so that she lost her footing and pitched down the stairs, doing such harm to one of her ankles she could not get to her feet again unaided.
Emmy and Miss Lansdall, once the deep cut in the governess' arm was bandaged, went to Great-Aunt Amelie who was sitting up in her huge curtained bed listening to the tale Jennie was pouring out.
She held out her arms to Emmy and motioned Miss Lansdall to sit down in a comfortable chair near the fire which Jennie must have built up again. There was a look of deep concern on her face as she settled Emmy in the warmth of undercovers.
''Tis
Great-Aunt Amelie listened, but for a moment she did not reply. Before she could, Miss Lansdall cried out, for a large piece of burning wood apparently leapt from the fire. Luckily the screen had been set up, but it struck against that with force enough to make it shake.
There was such a howl come down the chimney that Thragun yowled militantly in answer and jumped from the bed to run to the hearthstone. If Hob was planning on more mischief and truly aimed at those here, he would do what he could. Though if he might be able to actually attack Hob he was not sure. A thewada was apt to change into thin air under one's paws, and a Khon's reply might be even worse. This trouble was of his own making. If he had not brought Hob into the affair, the Khon, still fast in his pot, might well have been taken safely out of the house even as Captain Wexley had promised.
There were more crashes and Emmy was crying. Miss Lansdall's face was very white. Jennie had dropped on her knees by the bed, her hand a little out as if she reached for comfort to Great-Aunt Amelie.
However, Lady Ashley pulled herself even higher on the pillows and now her expression was one of intent study as if she were trying to remember something of importance.
'The still room,' she said as if to herself. 'Surely Mrs. Cobb has some in keeping there. Jennie, I will not order you to go there-'
'M'lady,' Jennie sat up, 'iffen there is something as will answer HIM-' her voice trailed off.
'Rowan,' Great-Aunt Amelie said sharply. 'Get my robe, Jennie, and my furred slippers. Emmy, you are a brave girl, I know. Remember how you aided
Emmy's lower lip trembled, but she obediently slipped out of the bed and put on her own slippers.
'My dear,' Lady Ashley was speaking now to Miss Lansdall who had started to rise, her face plainly showing that she was about to protest, 'I am a very old woman, and there is much which you younger people dismiss as impossible these days. But Hob's Green is a house very much older than I. Some man well-learned in history once told my father that parts of it were standing even before the Norman Lord to which William granted it came here. There are many queer tales. Hob is supposed to be the spirit of the house. Sometimes for generations of time all goes well and there are no disturbances, then again there are happenings which no one can explain. When I was several years younger than Emmy, there was a footman my father dismissed when he found him mistreating one of the village boys who helped with the fruit harvest.
'The man was very angry, but he was too fearful of my father who was a justice of the peace to strike at him openly. Instead, he waited for fair time and stole into the house, meaning to steal the silver. When the servants returned from the fair, he was found lying in the hall, his head badly hurt and a leg broken. His story was he had been deliberately tripped on the stair.
