“Mother! Look, I’m climbing!” Mary shouted, starting to climb up. Higher and higher she went. “Mother? Look, please!” Her voice rose as she glanced around, hoping her mother had seen her triumphant climb. But her mother was walking back into the house. She hadn’t even glanced in Mary’s direction. . . .

Mary woke up in the dark, feeling unhappy and cold. Her eyes darted around. Where was she? As she spotted the shadowy rocking horse and the enormous stone window, it all came back to her. Of course. She was at Misselthwaite Manor. Someone had been into her room, taken away her coat and boots, and shut the curtains while she’d been asleep—Mrs. Medlock maybe or a maid?

Mary shivered, wanting more blankets. In India she had always had a bell by her bed, and whenever she had rung it, her ayah had appeared. But here there was no bell. “Hello?” she tried calling. She raised her voice. “Hello?” But her words just rang out in the eerie silence.

A high wail from somewhere in the house made her jump. It sounded like a child, but there were no other children here in the manor house. Was it a bird or an animal maybe? Mary heard the noise again. Swinging her legs out of bed, she padded inquisitively to the bedroom door. The sound seemed to be coming from a floor above the one she was on. Perhaps it was her uncle. She listened, head to one side. It didn’t sound like a grown man. A worrying thought struck her. Could . . . could it be a ghost?

A shiver passed over her skin and for a moment Mary wondered if she should just stay in her room and ignore it. But her curiosity got the better of her. She had to find out what was making such a dreadful noise.

Gathering her courage, she left her room and set off along the gloomy corridor.

4

The House at Night

Mary reached a spiral staircase that looked as if it was a way for servants to move between floors. The sound still seemed to be coming from above her. As she started up the steps, the cries stopped. “Hello? Is someone there?” she called softly.

No one replied, and so she continued up the dark, twisty staircase. The wails started again and then stopped. Quickening her pace, Mary reached a landing lit by a shaft of moonlight filtering in through a window at the end. She hurried along the dark, narrow corridor and turned the corner.

There was a ghost! Mary stopped with a gasp as she saw a girl standing at the far end of the corridor. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was looking at an enormous mirror and the phantom girl was just her own reflection. She let out a relieved breath and felt her racing heart start to slow down.