Book IV

UNDER THE FLAGSTAFF

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.
May 1, 1907.

For some days after the last adventure I was in truth in a half-dazed
condition, unable to think sensibly, hardly coherently. Indeed, it
was as much as I could do to preserve something of my habitual
appearance and manner. However, my first test happily came soon, and
when I was once through it I reacquired sufficient self-confidence to
go through with my purpose. Gradually the original phase of
stupefaction passed, and I was able to look the situation in the
face. I knew the worst now, at any rate; and when the lowest point
has been reached things must begin to mend. Still, I was wofully
sensitive regarding anything which might affect my Lady of the
Shroud, or even my opinion of her. I even began to dread Aunt
Janet's Second-Sight visions or dreams. These had a fatal habit of
coming so near to fact that they always made for a danger of
discovery. I had to realize now that the Lady of the Shroud might
indeed be a Vampire--one of that horrid race that survives death and
carries on a life-in-death existence eternally and only for evil.
Indeed, I began to EXPECT that Aunt Janet would ere long have some
prophetic insight to the matter. She had been so wonderfully correct
in her prophetic surmises with regard to both the visits to my room
that it was hardly possible that she could fail to take cognizance of
this last development.

But my dread was not justified; at any rate, I had no reason to
suspect that by any force or exercise of her occult gift she might
cause me concern by the discovery of my secret. Only once did I feel
that actual danger in that respect was close to me. That was when
she came early one morning and rapped at my door. When I called out,
"Who is that? What is it?" she said in an agitated way:

"Thank God, laddie, you are all right! Go to sleep again."

Later on, when we met at breakfast, she explained that she had had a
nightmare in the grey of the morning. She thought she had seen me in
the crypt of a great church close beside a stone coffin; and, knowing
that such was an ominous subject to dream about, came as soon as she
dared to see if I was all right. Her mind was evidently set on death
and burial, for she went on:

"By the way, Rupert, I am told that the great church on time top of
the cliff across the creek is St. Sava's, where the great people of
the country used to be buried. I want you to take me there some day.
We shall go over it, and look at the tombs and monuments together. I
really think I should be afraid to go alone, but it will be all right
if you are with me." This was getting really dangerous, so I turned
it aside:

Really, Aunt