After Pendelton's surprising admission of guilt, whether perceived or real (Gertrude would say the effects on a person are the same), Elisa went to check on Thomas, and I sat quietly thinking. The rain tapped the window glass and the fire crackled warmly.

Pendelton sat too, pensively gazing into the fire.

Despite my own ghost-ridden childhood, I had embraced the esoteric sciences and confronted ghosts head-on. I had learned the rules by which ghosts played, and played the game against them.

Now I was forced to concede that the game was more complicated than I thought, and the consequences of losing, more dire. Gertrude was ever fond of half-quoting Shakespeare at me: "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Amelia, than are dreamt of in your sciences."

I also recalled her comment about my "seek and destroy tactics." Perhaps she was right. Perhaps I did have to change my methods.

Instead of seeking out the elusive ghost, maybe we could bring the ghost to us.

"Sir," I said, rousing Pendelton from his own silent contemplation, "I have an idea."

**********

Thomas took lunch in his room, and Elisa reported that the boy remembered little of what happened in the hallway, except Pendelton's uncharacteristic scolding, which had seemed to snap him out of it. He was tearfully apologetic for upsetting little Maggie, even though he didn't remember stealing her bear.

After our own late luncheon, which was a rather subdued affair, what with the gloomy weather outside and our recent conversation, Pendelton and I adjourned to his office. He had the box of old photos with him. It had taken little effort to convince the man that for the others' sakes, if not his own, we must try to banish the ghost forthwith.

It was only a working hypothesis, but if we drew a ghost near enough, I thought we might be able to follow it to its source object, and then dispel it. Barring that, I wondered, thinking of Gertrude's "ethereal push and pull," could a ghost be enticed attached to another significant object, such as the bones or a photograph, and dispelled that way?

We'd find out soon enough, I hoped.

Pendelton was the beacon. He sat in the desk chair, the bones laid out before him, the pile of photos in his hand. "Okay," he said. He didn't seem half as nervous as I was, though he was, in reality, acting as bait.

Having taken the time beforehand to steel myself mentally the best I could, using those psychological tricks to close off my ethero-sensitivity, I now sat opposite him before the desk. I had my jar of salts at the ready, as well as my etheric rod. The experimental sensor sat next to me. A spiritual dampening cloth lay near to hand. I put on my gloves.

I nodded and Pendelton began looking through the photos. "My parents were fond of him, of course. The elder son, athletic, fine-looking and full of vigor. They truly saw the good in all of us children, but I think even they began to recognize the darkness in his behavior sometimes."

I breathed calmly. In and out. Waiting.

"They loved me just as much, though I was small for my age, and bookish and quiet. Much like Thomas, in fact." The candle flickered. The abysmally grey sky peeked in through the window past rivulets of rainwater. "I dreamt of standing up to him, when he bullied me or tormented the others. But I never did.

"The night of the storm, he had taken Maureen's doll from her again. The rain was pouring down and she was susceptible to illnesses. I rushed her into the house, promising to get the beloved doll back for her. That is what led us to the edge of the cliff. He threatened to throw it over, and I was finally incensed enough to try to oppose him."

The air in the room was growing colder and the darkness growing darker. I felt that oppressive feeling as I had on the shore. I could see Pendelton's body tense. He felt it, too.

Shadows are funny things. They play tricks on our eyes. But I knew this shadow to not be the natural kind. It rose up like smoke around the arms of the man's chair. It slowly loomed over him like a fog. My etheric rod vibrated. Trying to keep my eyes on the growing shadow, I glanced at the sensor. The dial had moved toward the middle.

The plan was working.

"Keep talking," I whispered. I felt a wash of dizziness and steadied myself, controlling my breathing.

"The reality is, he probably wouldn't have threatened to throw the toy over, if I hadn't been so terrified that he would. It was all to get a rise out of me, to torment me."

Like an animal sniffing for prey, the shadow's tendrils moved over and around the bones, caressing them. Should I cast the salts upon it, or continue waiting?

Pendelton's voice wavered. " I frantically grabbed at him. I got the doll from him, somehow, and was still clutching at his jacket when he slipped."

Slowly some of the dark appendages appeared to sink into the bones, as if being absorbed. It was now or never, I thought.

I leapt up, throwing the dampening gauze over the desktop. Pendelton pushed his chair back, as an electrifying sizzle permeated the air.

The shadow shrank back quickly, as if being sucked into the floorboards.

The room became eerily silent. It was still unnaturally cold.

A knock came at the door, startling us both. Elisa opened it a crack, letting in a shaft of light. "I'm sorry to disturb you," she said, "but I saw something troubling." She stepped into the room. "I—"

Abruptly, her body stiffened and her eyes became unfocused. Her voice was flat and her tone mocking when she said, "Did you tell Miss Holte your plan, Morty? You thought that you'd let me in, and throw yourself, and me, off the cliff? Be done with me once and for all?" She smiled unpleasantly. "You could only wish for such a simple end. Don't you like replaying our history?"

Horrified, I pulled the dampening cloth from the desk, thinking to throw it about Elisa's shoulders in an attempt to drive off the spirit.

But just as quickly, her gaze focused, she blinked and said, "—wanted to check and make sure you were all right." She looked from my face to Pendelton's and her alarm grew. "Oh Heavens, what's wrong? What happened?"