078 The Phantom of Venice by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene [Keene, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

9

Ghost Story

Nancy willed herself to leap out of bed and confront the ghastly intruder. But she was petrified with fright and her limbs refused to obey.

Another scream by Tara sent the weird phantom darting toward the doorway. It seemed to pause for just a moment, as if reluctant to be driven out by mere flesh-and-blood humans. Then as Nancy finally launched herself out of bed, it streaked into the corridor and the door closed behind it.

Nancy started in pursuit, only to stop short as Tara cried out fearfully, “Oh, my God—no! Don’t go, Nancy! Don’t leave me—please!”

She sounded hysterical. Nancy turned and hurried to her bedside and put her arms around the terrified girl. “It’s all right, Tara! There’s nothing to be afraid of! The spook’s gone now, whatever it was!”

“Oh, N-N-Nancy! Did you see its face?”

“Yes. . . . I was hoping you hadn’t,” the teen sleuth added with wry humor, trying to relieve the tension.

“It was h-h-horrible!” declared Tara, shuddering. “When I woke up, that thing was coming toward me—and j-just for a second, the moonlight shone on its face! It was like a skull!”

The recollection brought on another spasm of weeping. Nancy held her close until the sobs died away. Then she rose from Tara’s bedside and started toward the doorway.

“For heaven’s sake, Nancy—be careful!”

She opened the door and looked out. The corridor was in semi-darkness, illumined only by the dim glow from a light in the gallery overlooking the ground floor. As Nancy’s eyes adjusted, she peered intently in both directions, but there was no sign of the ghostly midnight marauder.

With a sigh of relief, she closed the door. “Whatever, or whoever, it was—is gone now!”

Apparently the inner walls of the old palazzo were solid enough to have muffled Tara’s screams. They seemed not to have disturbed the household.

“What should we do, Nancy?”

“Good question. We could wake up the servants, I suppose, but I doubt if they’d appreciate it.”

The two were feeling calmer now. In the end, they settled back on their pillows and pulled up the covers. Tara kept her bedside light on as they chatted drowsily. Minutes later, both girls had fallen asleep.

Next morning, a maid brought them coffee and croissants. Tara tried to ask her if the palazzo was haunted, but the maid’s English was too poor to carry on a conversation.

Soon after the girls finished dressing, there was a knock on the door. It was Domenic, the butler. “The maid, Eufemia,” he grumbled in his hollow, heavily accented voice, “she say you see something last night.”

“We certainly did,” said Nancy.

Tara described the spook and repeated her question about the palazzo being haunted.

Domenic seemed both sullen and upset. “This is foolish talk,” he scolded. “Only girls and women see any ghost.”

“This wasn’t just ’any ghost’,” Nancy retorted. “We’re talking about a terrifying figure that came into our room last night. Into this room right here!” She was determined not to let him evade the issue, as he had done yesterday afternoon when she wanted him to serve tea in the courtyard.

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