his own
real or fancied narrative to the chaos.

Although there had seemed so far no aggression from the ghosts--our
own encounter with the apparition being typical of them all--shortly
after noon of the 15th we learned of an event which changed the
whole aspect of the affair; an event sinister beyond any which had
gone before. It had occurred in one of the hotels near Hamilton the
previous night and had been suppressed until now.

A young woman tourist, living alone in the hotel, had occupied a
bedroom on the lower floor. The storm blinds and windows were open.
During the night she had screamed. Guests in nearby rooms heard her
cries, and they were also conscious of a turmoil in the woman's
room. Her door was locked on the inside, and when the night clerk
finally arrived with a pass-key and they entered, they found the
room disordered, a wicker chair and table overturned, and the young
woman gone, presumably out of the window. She had been a woman of
about twenty-five, a widow, exceptionally attractive.

* * * * *

Stolen by the ghosts? We could think of nothing else. Was that what
had happened to Eunice Arton? Did that explain the reported
disappearances of the several other girls? Did this ghostly activity
have some rational purpose--the stealing of young white women, all
of them of unusual beauty? The conclusion was forced upon us, and
with it the whole affair took on a complexion shudderingly sinister.
It was not a mere panic of the people with which Bermuda now had to
cope--not merely an unexplainable supernatural visitation, harmless
enough, save that it was terrorizing. This was a menace. Something
which had to be met with action.

It would be futile for me to attempt detailing the events of that
chaotic day. We had all ridden over to Hamilton and spent the day
there, with the little town in a turmoil and events seething around
us--a seemingly endless stream of reports of what had happened the
night before. By daylight no apparitions were seen. But another
night was coming. I recall with an inward sinking of heart I saw the
afternoon sun lowering, the sky-blue waters of the bay deepening
into purple and the chalk-white little stone houses taking on the
gray cast of twilight. Another night was coming.

The government was making the best preparations it could. Every
policeman of the island force was armed and ready to patrol through
the night. The few soldiers of the garriso