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Authors: Clare B. Dunkle
Tags: Speculative Fiction
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me."
"You think goblins are trying to get you?" asked her guardian in surprise.
"I know he is," answered Kate firmly. "He told me so." Hugh Roberts put his spectacles back on and stared at her over them. Then he turned to her sister.
"Miss Emily, you went on that adventure, too. Do you know anything about this?" His younger charge shrugged and shook her head.
"Of course she doesn't," said Kate. "He told me last night. He said his first wife died childless, and I'm ideal. But they can't see in the daytime," she added, planning rapidly. "If I leave now, maybe Ican travel beyond their reach by nightfall." She began calculating how long it would take to pack and what she would need to bring. The others at the table exchanged apprehensive glances, their meal quite forgotten.
"Prim? Celia? Nighttime callers?" demanded Hugh. They looked at him and sorrowfully shook their heads. "Miss Emily?"
"She had a nightmare," whispered Emily. "She was talking in her sleep. I heard her."
"No one else saw him," declared Kate impatiently. Really, they were wasting her time.
"How convenient," murmured her guardian dryly.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" exclaimed Kate. "I know it seems impossible, but you just have to believe me. Adele's your own relation, after all. Haven't you learned anything from her story?"
"Miss Winslow," remarked Hugh Roberts distantly, "we don't concern ourselves with old gossip. We live in the nineteenth century now. Not even Mrs. Bigelow really believes her goblin tales."
Kate glanced, surprised, at the housekeeper, who was watching her anxiously. The pleasant woman gave an embarrassed shrug and looked away. Kate paused, deeply frustrated, and looked around the table at the others. They all looked as if they wished they were somewhere else. She took a deep breath and tried again.
"I understand your doubts," she said reasonably. "I can see why you thought we invented our walk home the other night. There are parallels to Adele's story, of course. It would be easy to think that we had heard it and decided to make up our own, but I promise you that we didn't. I would be happy to show you proof if only I had it. But please believe me," she insisted as calmly as she could. "I'm in terrible danger. I'm not lying to you."
Her guardian rose and began to pace the room slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned to look at her several times. Kate looked back as sincerely as she knew how.
"I do believe you," he remarked finally. "I can see that you're not lying."
Kate let her breath out in relief. "Then you know I'm in danger," she concluded. "You'll send me away."
"No, Miss Winslow," countered Hugh Roberts. "I do not know that you're in danger, but I do know that you're sincere in your delusions. It's obvious that your nerves have given way and left you in a frantic state. You've made some sort of break with reality."
Kate rose to her feet, astounded. "Are you saying that I've gone mad?" she demanded.
Her guardian looked dismayed. "There's no need to use so harsh a term," he protested. "But we felt even before this strange outburst that your nerves were showing severe strain. You must admit, Miss Winslow, that you've given us cause for concern."
Kate stared at each of them one by one. Mrs. Bigelow, fiddling anxiously with her fork and knife. Aunt Celia, face hidden behind her handkerchief. Aunt Prim, staring at the pattern on the platter with the most intense concentration. Emily, pushing a few stray peas around and around with her fork. Kate looked back up to meet her guardian's pale-eyed stare.
"You've certainly given me cause for concern, too," she remarked bitterly. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
* * *
After a half hour of frantic searching, Emily caught up with Kate. Her sister was lying in the middle of the tree circle, staring at the white clouds overhead. She sat up as Emily approached and began gathering the small lilies that grew within her reach.
"Oh, Kate, I'm so sorry,"
"You think goblins are trying to get you?" asked her guardian in surprise.
"I know he is," answered Kate firmly. "He told me so." Hugh Roberts put his spectacles back on and stared at her over them. Then he turned to her sister.
"Miss Emily, you went on that adventure, too. Do you know anything about this?" His younger charge shrugged and shook her head.
"Of course she doesn't," said Kate. "He told me last night. He said his first wife died childless, and I'm ideal. But they can't see in the daytime," she added, planning rapidly. "If I leave now, maybe Ican travel beyond their reach by nightfall." She began calculating how long it would take to pack and what she would need to bring. The others at the table exchanged apprehensive glances, their meal quite forgotten.
"Prim? Celia? Nighttime callers?" demanded Hugh. They looked at him and sorrowfully shook their heads. "Miss Emily?"
"She had a nightmare," whispered Emily. "She was talking in her sleep. I heard her."
"No one else saw him," declared Kate impatiently. Really, they were wasting her time.
"How convenient," murmured her guardian dryly.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" exclaimed Kate. "I know it seems impossible, but you just have to believe me. Adele's your own relation, after all. Haven't you learned anything from her story?"
"Miss Winslow," remarked Hugh Roberts distantly, "we don't concern ourselves with old gossip. We live in the nineteenth century now. Not even Mrs. Bigelow really believes her goblin tales."
Kate glanced, surprised, at the housekeeper, who was watching her anxiously. The pleasant woman gave an embarrassed shrug and looked away. Kate paused, deeply frustrated, and looked around the table at the others. They all looked as if they wished they were somewhere else. She took a deep breath and tried again.
"I understand your doubts," she said reasonably. "I can see why you thought we invented our walk home the other night. There are parallels to Adele's story, of course. It would be easy to think that we had heard it and decided to make up our own, but I promise you that we didn't. I would be happy to show you proof if only I had it. But please believe me," she insisted as calmly as she could. "I'm in terrible danger. I'm not lying to you."
Her guardian rose and began to pace the room slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned to look at her several times. Kate looked back as sincerely as she knew how.
"I do believe you," he remarked finally. "I can see that you're not lying."
Kate let her breath out in relief. "Then you know I'm in danger," she concluded. "You'll send me away."
"No, Miss Winslow," countered Hugh Roberts. "I do not know that you're in danger, but I do know that you're sincere in your delusions. It's obvious that your nerves have given way and left you in a frantic state. You've made some sort of break with reality."
Kate rose to her feet, astounded. "Are you saying that I've gone mad?" she demanded.
Her guardian looked dismayed. "There's no need to use so harsh a term," he protested. "But we felt even before this strange outburst that your nerves were showing severe strain. You must admit, Miss Winslow, that you've given us cause for concern."
Kate stared at each of them one by one. Mrs. Bigelow, fiddling anxiously with her fork and knife. Aunt Celia, face hidden behind her handkerchief. Aunt Prim, staring at the pattern on the platter with the most intense concentration. Emily, pushing a few stray peas around and around with her fork. Kate looked back up to meet her guardian's pale-eyed stare.
"You've certainly given me cause for concern, too," she remarked bitterly. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
* * *
After a half hour of frantic searching, Emily caught up with Kate. Her sister was lying in the middle of the tree circle, staring at the white clouds overhead. She sat up as Emily approached and began gathering the small lilies that grew within her reach.
"Oh, Kate, I'm so sorry,"
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