Chapter Twelve

The Ghost Again

One bright afternoon, a very curious person came into the dress shop in the village, though the shopkeeper couldn't exactly put his finger on why the man was so curious, except that he had an unfortunate appearance of one who was sickly and was rather sullen in manner. He approached the stranger cheerfully and asked him if there was anything that he could do for him. He glared at him disapprovingly. This man had the annoying trait common in all salesmen, to be both humble and arrogant at the same time. He stood before him now with a just-pleasant- enough smile on his face, waiting and willing to help.

The stranger removed a piece of paper from his coat pocket and set it on the table before him. The shopkeeper glanced at it nervously and saw that it was an address.

"What have you been sending there?" The man was attempting to intimidate him and the shopkeeper didn't like it.

"I don't see how that is your business, Monsieur."

"I am not interested in what you see." he retorted, "I am interested in how the young vixen at this address has been getting her clothes."

"Well, Monsieur," the shopkeeper began, choosing his words with caution, "I have been sending things for a young girl to that house for years. They order her dresses and other things by correspondence."

"And did they give any reason for requesting this service." The shopkeeper crossed his arms to show the man what a bother he was being and said, "Monsieur, this is the only shop which sells dresses for young girls in this area and one of very few which sell dresses at all. It is not at all uncommon for women and girls to order their things by correspondence rather than go into Paris. It is less expensive and far more convenient."

"Then there is nothing unusual about the orders that come from that house?"

"What should be unusual?"

"Well," the man said mockingly, "I don't know. The postman that delivers there told me that no one lives there except for a ghost." At this, the shopkeeper began laughing hysterically.

"The ghost has been ordering dresses for a little girl as well?" The stranger seemed to choke.

"As well? What do you mean 'as well'?" The shopkeeper was slapping his knee and howling with laughter. The man wasn't sure what he was going to say but he was quite sure that he wouldn't like it at all. When he had finally calmed down some he began to recall the whole story.

"Yesterday, just after I had closed the shop for the night, locked the door, and begun cleaning up, the ghost came in to shop."

"The ghost came in to shop." He repeated in disbelief.

"Yes! He wanted to buy a blue dress."

"And you weren't concerned about having a ghost buying dresses at your store?"

"Concerned? Concerned? I was terrified! But what could I do? Tell him that the store was closed and ask him to come back tomorrow?"

"How can a ghost purchase a dress?"

"He told me which one he wanted and asked me to wrap it up in a nice box and set it outside the door."

"And you did?"

" Of course I did! And you would have done it too!" The man put his hand to his forehead. "What did this ghost look like?" he asked the shopkeeper earnestly. The shopkeeper returned him a condescending look.

"You can't see a ghost!" The two men stared at each other for a long time. "He's absolutely mad!" the disgruntled stranger thought to himself but to the shopkeeper he said,

" No, I suppose you can't see a ghost, can you?"

"Of course not. Are you quite satisfied now, Monsieur?" The stranger scowled.

"I am curious. What do you think that ghost is going to do with a dress for a little girl?"

"No-no, Monsieur!" the salesman corrected him, "It was a blue gown, very elegant, for a lady."

"For a lady?" he asked, "Why would a ghost buy a lady's gown?" The shopkeeper shrugged and replied, "He said that he was taking his lady to Paris for a night at the opera." The man clutched his head and left the store in a fit and moaning, "A ghost! A ghost is taking her to the opera."

Sister Catherine-Marie, first noticed the man in the garden as she and some of her girls were picking lettuces for the noontime meal. He was standing half-hidden by the stone wall and staring through the iron gate. The sister followed his gaze, which seemed fixed on the many girls playing near the large apple tree which monopolized the playing yard. She had been employed by La Maison Pour Les Enfants Egaree for over three years and had grown to love each of 'her girls', as she called them, as if she were their own mother. She would tolerate nothing that might threaten them. This dark figure crouched behind the leaves frightened her although she couldn't say quite why. It seemed a quite enough creature and posed no immediate danger from behind the locked gate, but the sight of him sent shivers down her spine so that she gathered up 'her girls' and led them into the school. After she was sure that each of her lambs had returned to the fold, she went to the window to have a peek at the place where they had left the man. She was relieved, at first glance, to see that there was no one creeping around the gate but her sense of security turned to horror when she saw that the man had somehow defeated the wall and the gate and was now headed to the door.

For a moment, the good sister was at a loss. To confront him would be nearly unthinkable. She ought to lock the door good and tight and ignore him until he went away. But how had he gotten inside the courtyard? This was an invader unmoved by walls. No, she was going to have to handle this herself. She gathered up her every bit of courage and went to meet the dark man, find out what he wanted, and hopefully suite him enough that he would leave.

He was waiting for her as she opened the door of the school.

"Good-day, sister." He said rather gruffly. He was quite tall and pale. He had the look of someone who had been sick all long time.

"May we help you, sir?" she asked, trying to sound cold and not terrified.

"I am here to inquire about one of your orphans."

"What about them?"

"I am looking for my young niece, who has run away. I believe that she may be among them."

"No sir, none of my girls are runaways. Their parents are dead or have brought them to us. All of them are accounted for."

"I am sure that she is here!" he snarled, "I would like to see for myself."

"Well you can't. You aren't welcome here." And with that, she began to shut the door, but the man through it open with a strength she wouldn't have imagined in him and rushed past her, into the main room. Once, sister Catherine-Marie had regained herself, she sped after him, screaming. The little girls stood trembling around the room as the man inspected them with cruel eyes. She could tell that he hadn't found what he was looking for.

"Are you quite satisfied?" she demanded. He glared at her and hissed, "I would be very quiet if I were you!" He stalked about the room turning this way and that. His eyes fell on a girl called Nicolette who was clutching a lovely little doll and trying desperately to be brave, despite her diminutive stature. He towered over her with his hands on his hips as he snarled at her.

"That is a nice doll you have there, little girl."

"T-Thank you. She c-can sing a s-song." Said the child timidly.

"How nice. I saw you playing with it yesterday, you and another, older girl. Now I see you, but where is your friend?"

"T-that was Suzette. She doesn't live here."

"Oh no?" he asked dangerously, "Than where does she live?" The little girl looked around in fear. No one was volunteering any information.

"I don't know. No one does."

"What! Oh we shall see." He snatched the doll away and held it out of the girl's reach. She started to cry.

"Give her back! Give her back! She's mine! Suzette gave her to me!" The man stopped cold and flung the doll across the room where it smashed into the wall and fell to the ground. Nicolette sobbed and moved to run after it.

"Take one step and you'll wish you'd never been born! Now, explain this all to me. How is it that Suzette comes to visit you, plays with you, and brings you pretty dolls that sing songs, and yet you don't know where she lives?"

"She doesn't tell us. We've asked her before but she keeps it secret. But she's our friend and she brings us lovely toys in a big bag!"

"And where does a ragged and unwanted brat get the means to buy other ragged, unwanted orphans toys which most parents can't afford for their own children? Unless she is stealing them?"

"She's not ragged!" piped one girl. "Yes she has lovely dresses." chimed another. "She doesn't steal!" "She's a very nice girl!" "And she brings dolls and music boxes for us-" "And soldiers that really march for the boys!" The room was in an uproar of girls defending the honor of their beloved Suzette. Sister Catherine-Marie looked on helpless.

"Silence!" the man screamed at them, "Where does she live! Who is hiding her! From whom is she getting all these dresses and toys?" There answer was unanimous.

"From the ghost of course!"

"The ghost?"

"She lives in his house." Nicolette told him as the others nodded in earnest. "He only talks to her and no one else has ever seen him! He takes care of her and makes the toys that she brings to us." At this the man erupted in a fit.

"You are all insane!" he screamed at them. "This entire town is insane!" And with that being said he stormed out of the school, slamming desks and chairs as he went.