Then I knew what was to happen. We had talked of her as Gwen before we came to the Dumberdene.

We walked on in silence till we came to the top of the steps leading down the mountain. Then we turned and smoked in silence. It was again a gusty, fitful night. The wind was sobbing itself to sleep, like an angry child after a fit of passion, occasionally bursting forth with fresh though subdued violence, and then subsiding to a dead calm. The moon, which was at the full, was almost entirely obscured by masses of black clouds, driven wildly over her face. For one moment, as we stood under the rocky wall, the full mild light illumined the scene before us-the old castle, the mountain, the trees. Involuntarily we both started forward, for that moment had revealed to us the largest of the great cedars prostrate on the ground. In its fall a mass of foliage had been torn from the old building, which was now bared to the eye.

pass before them. I was first at the

The tree is fallen,' I exclaimed. Again the moonlight passed away, and for a minute the darkness was dense. The old tower clock struck the hour. We counted the strokes; there were thirteen. As the last hoarse clanking sound died away, the scene was once more illuminated. Not by the moon, however. A red light blazed suddenly forth inside the ruin, exactly behind where the fallen cedar had stood. The house was on fire! A red light, a dull glowing red. We could see the flames, and we could see figures We rushed forward. Lightest and most active, spot. As I approached, one figure became distinctly visible as it passed and repassed before the fire. Nay, I paused in horror till Harry joined me; for though the flames were confined to one room, they were apparently beyond control, and yet this figure was plainly adding to their fury, and with a long iron rod heaping up fuel and rousing the flame. We were now so close to the house that we could see every line of the man's countenance, and it was an evil one; eyes near together, a large purple scar across the face, coarse straight black hair, a villanous expression, a dirty woollen cap with a red tassel on one side of his head, the left leg somewhat shrunk, and supported by an iron frame, the squeaking of which we heard distinctly as he limped round his diabolical work. Presently he paused, and taking up a small box scattered the contents into the fire.

Its character changed in an instant to a vivid green, rendering his countenance ghastly. Apparently the heat was unbearable, for he stepped hastily back. Ha, he stumbles, tries to save himself; in vain! He falls, and falls into the very middle of that furnace, with a shriek which freezes the blood in our veins. Again we dashed forward, and the moon once more lending her light, we clambered, grasping and clinging to the ivy, straight up the old wall, and crashing through the window we stood in the burning

room.

It was empty-no fire, no man! But as if to mock us, as if to prove that we had not been dreaming, a large space in the centre was lowered and bricked as if to contain a fire; a curious chimney, shaped like an extinguisher, hung over it from the ceiling; ashes and cinders, among which some charred bones were plainly visible, were scattered about, and an iron frame was lying straight across the quaint fireplace.

It was a moment never to be forgotten. We looked at one another in silence. Even Harry was moved.

'Can we have come to the wrong room?' I whispered.

He shook his head, and pointed to the iron. Then he crossed the room, and tried a door. It was locked, but the lock was old, and we could easily have burst it, if the moonlight had not again left us in pitch darkness. Come away,' I whispered. I am ashamed to say I was trembling like a girl. My dream had thoroughly unnerved me.

'I mean to see this out,' replied Harry.

trick. Will you fetch the lantern, or shall I ?'

'Of course it is a

Both appeared equally terrible, to leave him or to be left.

You will be quickest. I will wait,' said he, in a tone which admitted no reply; and I was out of the window and scrambling down the ivy in a second.

As I returned with the lantern, which fortunately we had taken out with us, I again paused in horror, for the flames were again visible, and the man with the iron was once more stirring them up and limping round them. And there, in the midst of this ghastly scene, stood my own Harry, calm, and apparently unconscious of what was passing around him. His tall figure and handsome face were as plainly to be seen as his terrible companion. It was with a sound that was more of a sob than a cry that I dashed on, tearing my hands and my clothes as I almost flew up the ivy and swung myself into the room. Then I turned faint with terror, for again it was empty, excepting that Harry stood waiting as I left him. I think he was surprised at my want of pluck. His nerves had been shaken by no previous warning, and his temperament was not excitable like mine.

We tried in vain to force open that door. Old and slight as the lock appeared, it resisted all our efforts. We paused. And then distinctly we heard a footstep approaching the other side, a halting footstep, a creaking iron. A hand was on the lock. The bolts flew back, and slowly and heavily the door swung open. We hastily raised the lantern, and stepped out into the passage. No one was to be seen. Only a sound as of rats and of falling plaster, and then all was still. Only the wind rose with a dreary moan through the loopholes above us, and passed us with a rush as it wailed down the passage. We went on, through countless rooms and passages, some

wide and vaulted, some narrow and lofty, under deep archways, . round massive buttresses, now down a broad oak staircase, now up steep winding steps, till our heads grew giddy. We were astonished to find the oak floors firm, and the walls, though dripping with moisture and covered with damp in places, perfectly solid. The place was safe and perfectly habitable. Why, then, was it deserted? We grew bewildered, and I was oppressed with that strange feeling that all this had happened before. Suddenly my heart stood still with wonder. It had all happened before. It was the realisation of my dream. We had turned into the picture-gallery, and there were the pictures as I had seen them, hanging, not against the wall, but from the ceiling, and swinging to and fro; all but one, the stately lady in black robes, and she was moving up and down. I almost expected her to descend and fling her robes around me, as in my dream. It was horrible to know my way as I did now. I fancied Harry looked at me with surprise as I turned with decision to the lobby on the left, and walking straight up to the projecting chimney, touched it, and then stood aside to allow the panel to fall out. It did so, and Harry followed me into a room. The room. Was I dreaming still? Harry said 'No' when I asked him. Yet there it all was-the beetles racing, the cocoons' creaking, the heap of drapery in the darkened window, the small bed in the corner, and, as we paused, we both became aware of the peculiar sickly odour, as in my dream. And of something more. There was in that room what I can only describe as the consciousness of a presence. The wind had died away in a long lull; not a sound was heard save the hoarse creaking of the 'cocoons' and our own troubled breathing, and yet we both felt that we were not alone. A hot flush mounted to Harry's brow. I know that I was deadly pale. We looked instinctively towards the bed. Our eyes met. We advanced together. Again we paused. Could it be possible that we heard. the faintest sound of breathing, not our own? The tattered curtains were closed; through the slits we could see something, yet we could distinguish nothing. Harry put out his hand, and gently drew them back. Yes. There it lay, that still form. The long hair covered it, and the head was turned away, as I had seen it. And as before Harry raised the head and turned the young dead face towards us, and we saw the high-bred delicate features, the old-young look, the strange colouring. And then came the long shivering sigh, the slight tremulous stretching, and the sinking back to the awful repose. And then a shriek, a woman's wail, burst forth so close, so very close, that it seemed in our very ears, and the breath that sent it forth played upon our cheeks. Without waiting for it to die away, as it did with a prolonged wail through the vaulted corridors, we rushed from the room, fled through the passages, stumbled down a staircase, and how, I know not, found ourselves safe in the open air.

We

never went to bed that night. We passed it in Harry's room, in wondering discussion of the adventure. Never had I seen Harry so roused. He still leaned strongly to the opinion that some trickery was at work, and with morning light grew ashamed of our panic. He resolved to relate the whole to Mr. Bandeswyke. Firm as was my belief in Harry's wisdom, I could not convince myself that all that we had seen and heard was attributable to natural causes alone.

The next morning we sought and obtained a private interview with our host, and Harry told our tale. Never did man's face cloud over as Mr. Bandeswyke's, when he began to perceive the gist of Harry's remark.

6

Then, in spite of my warning, you did go out last night,' was his first observation. After that he listened in silence to the end, and then he said with a smile, for which I hated him, When the property is yours, young sir, you will probably fathom the mystery.' Harry coloured violently, but disdained to reply. I was up in arms at once. I hope, sir, you do not for a moment do Harry the

gross injustice-’

'I have heard your tale,' interrupted Mr. Bandeswyke, utterly ignoring my existence, and addressing Harry: 'I have heard your tale. Possibly I hold the key to the mystery. Possibly it is a mystery to me. At all events, it is as yet no business of yours, and I must request that your lips will be closed on the subject during my lifetime. You will also answer for your friend's discretion. Do you like to ride to-day ?'

I fancy even Harry was nettled at this reply, and at the abrupt transition of subject, and I own that I listened with delight to his rejoinder, which was merely an announcement that we must leave the Dumberdene that day. Not only was he hurt at Mr. Bandeswyke's manner, but in my heart I felt convinced that his repugnance was as great as my own to passing another night in that haunted pile.

Mr. Bandeswyke seemed rather surprised, but received our decision with indifference. An hour later I was amused by his seeking us with regrets at our sudden departure, entreaties that we would stay, and invitations to us to join the family in Italy in the autumn. All this I attributed to Mrs. Bandeswyke, who was evidently much vexed at losing us, and I was almost angry with Harry for his cordial reception of the last proposal. Gwen was very still, very silent. So was Harry all that day, and the next, and for many days to come. He seemed to have grown ten years older in that short visit to his future home.