'Claire? . . . Claire? . . . Claire?
The thing sounded very, very afraid.
'No t dead? . . . Claire? . . .Not dead?'
Suddenly the fire began to die and the orange light began to go out. Now
Walter could see the sky above him and the tower round him.
'Not dead? . . . Claire? . . . Not. . .?'
Slowly the words died too.
Soon there was no fire, no sound. Only the light in Walter's hand.
Claire went up the last of the stairs and out on to the top of the tower. She saw
Walter Burge, but he did not hear her. He looked across the fields.
The orange-coloured cat sat on the wall of the tower. It saw Claire . . . and its
eyes were afraid. It moved away from her.
Walter saw Claire's light. He turned quickly. Claire saw the stones behind him
move.
'The wall!' she called.
Walter jumped away from the wall. His light fell from his hand and went out. The
stones behind him fell into the night. Then half of the tower began to follow them.
Claire and Walter ran across to the stairs and down them. They looked back when
they got to the bottom, when the sound of the falling stones stopped. Most of the Black
Tower was suddenly not there.
They looked at it without speaking. Then Walter Burge said, 'We're lucky that
we're not dead.'
'Yes,' said Claire. 'But. . . what happened to your cat?'
They found it in the snow at the bottom of the tower. It was dead.
Walter said nothing. He walked away sadly.
Aunt Min opened her eyes when she heard them coming. Mr Burge came in
first, then Claire.
'Mr Burge,' Aunt Min began. 'I. . . we -'
'The girl told me about the accident with the car,' said Walter.
Aunt Min looked at Claire. 'Are you all right?'
'Yes,' said Claire. Her face was white.
'Some of the tower fell down,' said Walter. 'The snow . . . it's very heavy . . .' He
stopped.
Aunt Min looked at him, then looked back at Claire. 'I think I understand,' she
said. And they knew that she did.
'I can take you home in my car,' said Walter.
'Thank you, Mr Burge,' said Aunt Min.
They went outside to Walter's car. The snow stopped falling when they opened
the door.
They sat in the back and Claire looked out of the window at the castle. It was
different. She was not afraid of it now. The Black Tower wasn't tall now. Most of it was
not there.
Claire looked at her watch; it was after midnight. 'It's Christmas Day,' she
said. 'Happy Christmas, Aunt Min. Happy Christmas, Mr Burge.'
'Happy Christmas,' they said together.
Walter walked up to the castle the next morning. He went to the bottom of the
Black Tower and looked at the stones.
The fire-coloured cat was not there. He looked for it carefully, but it was not
there.
And nobody ever saw the ghost of Genny Castle again.
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