...Morgan felt the stillness all around her. She froze in response to the twig snapping, and looked around to find Mrs.P....a distance away on the lawn with something clutched in her hand. As she opened her palm, the brassy glint of the key sparkled in the moonlight.

"Give ME the key!"...shouted a voice from the bushes...

As they got out into the cool night air, Morgan felt for the key to the box she had slipped into her pocket. It wasn't there. Had it fallen out when she slipped and fell onto the grass? She felt a lump rise up in her throat. Somewhere out in the night, Willard was shrouded by the dark--waiting to pounce as soon as she got near. How could she expose herself now? And how could she go looking across the lawn without any light?

In the meantime, Mrs. Quibb was following Morgan a few paces behind. Her hand was gripped tightly around a small brass object. Slowly, she fell out of pace with Morgan, and then stopped walking altogether....

"Quick! Run!" urged Mrs. Quibb as Morgan's grandfather lunged towards her.

"You won't get away from me!" sneered her grandfather. But the door slammed in his face and when he turned around, he was alone in the room.

"You're not Constable Hornby" gasped Mrs Quibb. There stood Morgan's grandfather. She had forgotten his gift for mimicry. Slamming the door quickly and locking it she turned to her neighbour. " Is there another way out of here?" she demanded.

"Only through the basement.. you could climb out through the old coal shute. You'll have to go by yourself. i can't make it. I'll hide in the secret room"

Morgan looked at Mrs Quibb in amazement. I'll need to look into this further later once I'm safe.

Suddenly the lights went out and Morgan and Mrs. Quibb were engulfed in complete darkness.

Mrs. Quibb gazed at the condition of Morgan's clothes and hair. She wrapped a blanket around her and just as Morgan was going to tell her what had happened, loud, frantic pounding came from the front door.

A broom came crashing down on grandapa's head.

 Running for the door, Morgan fell as Willard's hand encircled her leg. Just then, Morgan saw flashing lights and heard sirens blaring!

Smiling inwardly, Morgan thought:” The police have cornered Willard like the rat he is”. Morgan was thrown off guard as Willard slammed her to the floor and slapped his hand over her mouth. She bit down hard on her uncle's hand. Willard let go of Morgan and she made a mad dash for the door. Morgan flung open the door bur her exit was blocked by none other than…Grandpa?

"OH my God, Grandpa, what are you doing here? I thought you were dead!"

"Well, I'm not, my dear, and you may soon well be if you don't tell me where my money is!"

It was shocking enough to Morgan to see her grandfather whom she presumed was dead standing there, let alone comprehend the horrible way he was talking to her. Before Morgan could respond, thunder shook the old house and the lights were extinguished by unseen forces.

Morgan decided to change her tactics.” It’s too late Grandpa, Uncle Willard already has it!"

Grandpa grabbed Morgan's arm and started to drag her towards the basement door when all of a sudden there was a loud crash! "Willard, go see what that noise was," Grandpa snarled.

While grandpa was distracted, Morgan took the opportunity to break free and run for the back door. Swinging open the door, she ran into the cool night air, droplets of rain leftover from the thunderstorm, soaking her nightgown. The eerie darkness made Morgan pause to decide which way to run.  Remembering her nosy neighbour, Mrs Quib, and her constant complaints about insomnia, Morgan let out a shrill scream.

Within seconds, Mrs. Quib's front porch light came on.  Morgan hesitated, should she run for the police cars, or Mrs Quib's house? Morgan quickly decided her best bet was to run towards the police cars. Panic gripped her body as Morgan saw Grandpa standing with the police.” What was he telling them?” she thought.

Horrified, she saw the policeman standing next to her grandfather give a nod, then signalled to the other cops to move out.  They were leaving! Mrs Quib was Morgan's only chance! Reaching out to grab Morgan’s arm, Willard slipped on the wet grass.

A strange object fell from grandpa's pajama pocket....  It was a shiny gold key, Morgan recognized it at once. It belonged to the trunk in the basement! She grabbed the key and headed for Mrs Quib's house. As Uncle Willard approached, Morgan let out an ear-piercing scream, prompting Mrs Quib to turn on all the lights in her house. Morgan began to run toward Mrs Quib's porch, but in the dark, she tripped in a pothole and fell.

Shining a flashlight across the lawn, Mrs Quibb called out.” Who’s there?"

“HELP”, Morgan screamed. Morgan was only a few feet away from Mrs. Quibb's porch, could she make it before they grabbed her?

"Cornelius, is that you?" Mrs Quib called out to Morgan's grandfather.  

It was a dark and stormy night.... and all of the power was down. The rain drummed the roof in eerie rhythm... Morgan bolted upright in her bed as she heard the soft footsteps outside her bedroom door.  Perspiration trickled down her neck as she anxiously clutched the covers. Slowly the door creaked open. Shining eyes pierced the darkness of her room. Her cat, Horatio, quickly padded across the carpet and leapt onto the bed. Morgan heaved a sigh of relief and snuggled back under the covers. Then Morgan heard the screen door slam shut. "Please, please." Morgan's mind screamed. "Let it be the wind.” Trembling she reached out for the switch on the lamp by her bed.  Slowing pressing the button, she quietly groaned in the darkness. "Damn the storm", she muttered. The lamp briefly lit up the room, throwing sinister shadows against the walls of her bedroom, then flickered and went out. Slowly Morgan got out of bed and went in search of a candle. She finally found one, but remembered the matches were downstairs in the kitchen.

Morgan decided to use the darkness to her advantage, as she hoped that she knew the house better than the intruder. ...If there really was an intruder.  Or perhaps her imagination was playing tricks on her.  "Get a grip!" she told herself sternly.  Gripping the banister, tightly, she began her slow descent down the stairway. Were the creaks on the stairs hers or... was there someone else on the stairs.... climbing towards her. She paused and heard... were the creaks on the stairs hers or... was there someone else on the stairs.... climbing towards her. She paused and heard... ...the ticking of an old-fashioned watch. Trying to think rationally, Morgan realized that she had heard that sound, that irregular beat, before. Then she caught the faint smell of familiar cologne, but it couldn't be..........  Grandpa died years ago in that skydiving accident! Or did he? Maybe the rumors were true. "He did fall into that lake," she thought,” but they never found the body!" Then she noticed that the air around her had become very cold!  Morgan started thinking about the rumors... especially the ones about the money that was never found. Or was it the inheritance that worried her? Grandpa's lawyer had been very secretive about how grandpa had made his fortune.

Before descending farther down the stairs, Morgan looked for something to arm herself. She knew if she made it to the bottom of the stairs she could grab one of the heavy brass candle sticks from the small oak table that was just to the left of the stairway. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stretched out her hand to grab hold of the candlestick, but it was not there! Morgan's mind began to race with thoughts of what she should do now. She ran towards the front door, thinking that escape was her only chance. But before she made the door, a bony hand grabbed her by the arm.

 "I bet you didn't expect to see me!" Morgan was so shocked she let out a bone-chilling scream and fainted.

When Morgan came too she could hardly believe her eyes...........it just couldn't be! Smiling menacingly, the intruder said,” Yes, it's me dear and I want my money back".

Morgan asked her intruder "how can this be your dead?"

 "Aww, Morgan, honey. Aren't you happy to see your grandma?"

Morgan just stared at her grandmother with shock, horror and disbelief. "You old crone! Why are you doing this to me?" she said, as fear was replaced by anger.  "How dare you show up after all the mean horrible things you did to me growing up!” Morgan was petrified, but she did not want to her grandmother to know it, she had to think fast. Seeing a flicker of movement behind her grandmother, Morgan realized that Horatio had come to investigate the intrusion. Horatio sensing his mistress’s distress took his opportunity to jump upon the intruder’s neck. As Horatio's claws dug into the plump mound of skin, they also managed to snag synthetic hairs of grandma’s wig, thereby revealing the intruder's identity!

Morgan was shocked, but she had time to react she reached out and grabbed the telephone and gave the intruder a whack on the head!  She bent down to closer examine the unconscious figure. Morgan could not believe her eyes, it was her Uncle Willard, but he was supposed to be in prison serving a life sentence.