’ I don’t see her again until the evening. She comes in while I am eating my supper. I don’t know why but she likes to watch me eat. She finds i... fascinating. I have a feeling that she watches me while I sleep too. ‘I have a solution to our problem,’ she says immediately as she enters the room. ‘Our problem?’ I ask defumbled. I’m still a little mad at her but it is nothing new. ‘Yes. Your loneliness,’ she informs me. ‘Oh, that little thing,’ I smile. ‘What is your solution? Do you have a new. It was Ferguson who knew about the old legend and had kept his comrades entertained with tales of the awful doings of the Spirit of the Old Wood. On stormy winter nights his tales had gone down very well, as they supped old port and listened to Fergie's tales against the scary background of the rain beating upon the windows and the wind howling.Father Stephen nodded. That was one mystery explained. But what was behind the shining light, the screaming as of a siren and the cackling demented. More

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