Free Sandra Heath by The Haunting of Henrietta Page A

Rowley’s claws slithered on the ceiling and his barking rang loudly through the house, disturbing those guests who had psychic inclinations, but most of all alerting Jane and Kit to the fact that something was wrong. The ghosts left their bed and Kit hastily donned his sword as they rushed through the closed door into the passage, which was at the opposite end of the abbey.
    Henrietta’s thoughts were in confusion as she ran after the thief. Perhaps this was all a dream, and she was really still in her bed! But as she turned the corner, she knew it was no dream, for the intruder was standing there, his identity still concealed by his hooded cloak. She had no time to protect herself as he struck her on the side of the head with a candlestick. Pain flashed vividly through her eyes, and she felt herself falling to the cold stone floor. She heard the clatter of the candlestick as it was dropped nearby. The last thing to penetrate her fading consciousness was Rowley’s hysterical barking from the ceiling.
    Old Nick had happened to observe events, and was delighted, but as he began to rub his hands together gleefully, he realized Rowley’s barking might bring timely help. He raised a hand to dash the spaniel into oblivion, but for once St. Peter was alert. A bolt of lightning flashed down from heaven, singeing Old Nick’s fingers so badly that he gave a howl of pain and drew back down into his realm. He wished he’d remembered what happened when he’d interfered on the terrace. He really wasn’t very successful when it came to acting on the spur of the moment, and the sooner he remembered that disagreeable fact, the better.
    Rowley, who knew nothing, continued to bark for all he was worth.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The thief ran on toward the staircase landing, from where he could go up or down, or even take one of the three other passages that led off it. Rowley dashed in his wake. The spaniel was beside himself with fury and indignation, and redoubled his noise as he saw Jane and Kit hastening from the passage opposite.
    Russell and Marcus were just approaching the staircase on the ground floor when Marcus halted in puzzlement. “Can you hear a dog barking?”
    “A what?”
    “A dog, a small one.”
    “There aren’t any small dogs here,” Russell reminded him.
    “Which is what I thought, yet I can definitely hear one. It’s somewhere on the floor above.”
    As they both looked up the staircase, the cloaked figure fled across the landing, then disappeared again into the passage opposite. The two men were so startled that for a second or so they didn’t react, but then Russell shouted and they both ran up the staircase. Rowley’s almost hysterical barking was still audible to Marcus, and to the various guests whose sleep was disturbed by the noise. The intruder was running directly toward Jane and Kit, but saw nothing. Kit drew his sword and blocked the way, but, of course, the thief ran through him unhindered. Furious to be so helpless. Kit gave a shout of rage, and chased him.
    Rowley had slithered to a halt on seeing Jane and Kit. Still barking, he scampered back the way he’d come, followed by Jane, who realized he was trying to tell her something. She was horrified to find Henrietta lying unconscious. Rowley, who knew he’d done well, jumped down into his mistress’ arms, his plumy tail wagging. Jane cuddled her beloved pet close as she cast distractedly around for a way to help Henrietta. Then, just as Russell and Marcus ran shouting on to the landing behind her, the specter saw the discarded candlestick tying nearby. Closing her eyes tightly, she concentrated hard upon making it move. It rocked to-and-fro, then rose abruptly into the air and dashed itself noisily against the flagged floor.
    Marcus had begun to follow Russell after the cloaked figure, and because Rowley was quiet now, the clatter of the candlestick carried very clearly. He halted and looked back in puzzlement. What in God’s name was going