Babe hesitated a moment longer, and then, pocketing her pride, she fled up the path to the castle. Out of the wood she ran, across the grassy slope, and up the winding stone stairs, as if she thought the ghost was close behind her. Near the top of the flight she paused for breath. “Don’t care if they did see me,” she muttered angrily, brushing the hair out of her face and assuring herself that the ghost had not followed. “It’s a mean trick to scare any one like that. It’s dangerous, really it is.” But they hadn’t seen her mad race through the wood. Apparently they hadn’t even missed her. They were all, the whole six of them, Madeline included, gathered in an eager group around the signal-fire, which wouldn’t burn, in spite of John’s most valiant efforts, because the wind was so strong.