儿童英语读物 The Mystery of the Singing Ghost CHAPTER 8 The Letter(在线收听

The next afternoon, the children packed up their sleeping bags, pajamas, and a change of clothes. Henry put in a flashlight, some more cleaning equipment, and a camera.

“What’s the camera for?” Benny asked, sounding puzzled.

“I just thought it would be fun to take some pictures while we’re working. Joe and Alice can put them in their scrapbook,” Henry said.

Aunt Jane said, “I’ll drive you all over to the house and pick you up in the morning.”

“Can we take Watch?” Benny asked.

“That’s a good idea,” Henry said. “He’s a good watch dog.”

“What about food?” Benny asked.

“I heard that,” Mrs. McGregor said. She came into the living room carrying a big picnic basket. “Everything you’ll need is in here. For dinner there is a cold roast chicken, raw vegetables, potato salad, and cake. There’s fresh fruit for an evening snack. Just remember to put everything in the refrigerator as soon as you get to the house.”

“I’ll remember that,” Violet said.

“Oh,” Mrs. McGregor said, “there are also two cartons of milk and a thermos of lemonade. And cold cereal and bananas for breakfast.”

“They certainly won’t starve.” Aunt Jane laughed.

They all piled into Aunt Jane’s car, and she drove to the Roth house. Watch jumped out when the door was opened and ran around the house. When Henry whistled, however, he came right back.

“You’d better keep him indoors,” Aunt Jane said. “You don’t want him to get lost.”

“Don’t worry,” Benny said. “He won’t go far.”

“All right,” Aunt Jane said. “I’ll be back in the morning. If you need anything, just call home.”

The children watched her car drive away and then they went inside. They got to work right away, polishing and scrubbing and making sure the house was as clean as they could make it. As they worked, they noticed the sun that had filled the house was gone. Violet looked out of a window and said, “Look at the sky! It’s filled with dark clouds.”

Henry looked out, too. “It’s going to rain. I’ll turn on the radio and see what the weather report is.”

The Aldens gathered around the radio and listened. “A severe storm watch is now in effect,” the announcer said. “Heavy rain and lightning are expected.”

Benny frowned. “I don’t like that.”

Henry laughed. “You’re not afraid of thunder and lightning.”

“I know,” Benny said. “But I just hope the lights don’t go out.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Me, too.”

Jessie said quickly, “Come on, let’s get dinner ready. We can open our sleeping bags and sit on them while we eat.”

The Aldens all went into the kitchen and took Mrs. McGregor’s feast out of the refrigerator. They put everything on paper plates and sat on the living room floor to eat their dinner.

As they were finishing, a flash of brilliant lightning filled the room, followed by a loud clap of thunder. The lights flickered and the children all exchanged worried glances.

Something banged upstairs. “What was that?” Violet asked.

“It’s probably just a door that blew shut,” Jessie said.

“But there are no windows open to blow it shut,” Violet said.

Watch sat next to Violet, his tail beating on the floor, and he whined loudly. “Even Watch is scared,” Benny said.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, Benny,” Henry said.

Suddenly a sweet smell filled the room. The smell of roses. “There’s that smell again. Like roses. Only there are no roses here,” Violet said. “Remember they died and we threw them away.”

“Well, then only the smell stayed,” Jessie said.

“I want to talk to Grandfather,” Benny said. “I just want to say hello.”

“Go ahead, Benny,” Henry said, following him into the kitchen.

Benny picked up the phone. “It’s not working. There’s no sound at all.”

Henry took the phone out of Benny’s hand. He listened, frowning. “Well, I guess the storm knocked some phone lines down. I’m sure it will be fixed soon.”

Henry and Benny went back into the living room. “The phone isn’t working,” Henry said.

Violet gasped. The lights flickered again and then a sound came from upstairs. It was the same sweet voice they had heard before, singing the same sweet song. The Aldens sat in silence, scarcely breathing. And then, after a few minutes, the singing stopped.

“It can’t be a radio this time,” Violet said. “And all the windows are shut.”

“Well, it has to be coming from somewhere,” Henry said. “And it isn’t from a ghost. It’s just drifting in. We’ll figure out from where. Meanwhile I say we get to work! There is a lot to do upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Benny said.

“Yes,” Jessie agreed. “There is nothing up there to be afraid of, and if we do some work, it will take your mind off of the singing.”

The children walked up the stairs. Jessie said, “There’s that big desk in the one room we haven’t looked at.”

They went into the small room that held the big desk and Henry pulled open a drawer. It was filled with pads of blank paper. The Aldens opened every drawer and emptied them of old pencils, rubber bands, a pair of glasses, and assorted odds and ends. When they reached the next drawer, Henry pulled on it but it didn’t move. Jessie pulled, too, and still the drawer remained shut.

“We’ll never get this open,” Henry said.

“Let me try once more,” Jessie insisted.

She pulled as hard as she could and finally it flew open. Jessie peered inside. “There’s an envelope stuck back here!” The envelope was stuck half in the drawer and half against the back of the desk. She took the drawer out of the desk, reached inside, and pulled out the envelope.

Jessie turned it over and said softly, “Look!”

Written on the front in a delicate, perfect handwriting was the word Father.

“It’s Celia’s handwriting,” Violet said. “The same handwriting that was in the diary.”

“Open it, Jessie!” Benny said.

Jessie ripped open the envelope and took out one sheet of paper that had the same delicate handwriting the children now could recognize.

“What does it say?” Henry asked.

Jessie said in a soft voice, “It’s dated August 10, 1917. And it says:

    Dear Father:

    I have tried to obey you always, but now I just can’t. I love George very much and we are going to be married. I am going to his parents’ home in Bromley and we will be married there in a few days.

    I don’t mean to hurt you. Please call me when you read this and please come to our wedding.

    I am putting this letter in this drawer because I know you open it every morning to take out your reading glasses to read the morning paper. So I know you will find the letter right away.

    I love you very much and will be waiting to hear from you.

    Your daughter, Celia”

The Aldens were silent. Then Violet said, “The letter must have gotten stuck in the back of the drawer, and Mr. Roth never saw it.”

“So he thought that Celia had disappeared and he had no idea where she could have gone,” Jessie said.

“Wow!” Benny said. “That was a real mystery.”

Violet’s voice trembled a little. “Poor Celia. She must have waited to hear from her father and she never did. So she thought he didn’t want to talk to her.”

“It’s so sad,” Jessie said.

Just then Benny let out a big yawn. Henry smiled at him. “Let’s quickly finish cleaning out this desk, then we can go to sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

The bottom drawer opened easily. Violet looked in and said, “Look at this! It’s a tape player.”

She lifted it out carefully and placed it on the desk.

“There’s a tape in it, too,” Benny said.

Jessie rewound the tape to where it started and pushed the play button. A girl’s sweet voice, singing a sad song, filled the room. “That’s the singing we’ve been hearing,” Jessie cried out.

“It was a tape all the time,” Violet said. “Not Celia’s ghost.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts, Violet,” Benny said.

“This tape recorder couldn’t have belonged to the Roths. It’s brand-new,” Jessie pointed out. “Someone brought it here just to play this tape.”

“Who would do that?” Henry asked. “Who would play this, knowing it would bother us?”

“Let’s go downstairs and get into our sleeping bags,” Violet said. “We can talk about it some more.”

Once the children were snugly in their sleeping bags, Jessie said, “Well, someone is deliberately trying to scare us. Who?”

“It’s probably the same person who brought the flowers and the dress and left the letter in the mailbox,” Henry said.

By now the rain had stopped and the house was quiet. “Can we talk about this in the morning?” Benny asked. “I’m sleepy.”

Henry laughed. “Sure. But there isn’t that much to talk about. It has to be either Mr. Carter or Mr. Farley or Ms. Evans or Mr. Yeats.”

“But how do we find out which one of them it is?” asked Violet.

“I don’t know,” said Henry. “Maybe we’ll think of something in the morning.”

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