istol, the door by which the
phantom had entered. Accompanied by the Englishman, he followed the
path he had taken in pursuit of the spectre. He recognized the obstacles
which had hindered him, and noted how easily one who knew the locality
might cross or avoid them.

At the spot where he had fired, he found the wad, but he looked in vain
for the bullet. The arrangement of the passage, which ran slanting, made
it impossible for the bullet, if its marks were not on the walls, to
have missed the ghost. And yet if the ghost were hit, supposing it to
be a solid body, how came it to remain erect? How had it escaped being
wounded, and if wounded, why were there no bloodstains on the ground?
And there was no trace of either blood or ball.

Sir John was almost ready to admit that his friend had had to do with a
veritable ghost.

"Some one came after me," said Roland, "and picked up the ball."

"But if you fired at a man, why didn't the ball go into him?"

"Oh! that's easily explained. The man wore a coat of mail under his
shroud."

That was possible, but, nevertheless, Sir John shook his head dubiously.
He preferred to believe in a supernatural occurrence; it gave him less
trouble.

Roland and he continued their investigations. They reached the end of
the passage which opened on the furthest extremity of the orchard. It
was there that Roland had seen his spectre for an instant as it glided
into the dark vault. He made for the cistern, and so little did he
hesitate that he might still have been following the ghost. There he
understood how the darkness of the night had seemed to deepen by the
absence of all exterior reflection. It was even difficult to see there
by day.

Roland took two torches about a foot long from beneath his cloak, took
a flint, lighted the tinder, and a match from the tinder. Both torches
flared up.

The problem was now to discover the way by which the ghost had
disappeared. Roland and Sir John lowered their torches and examined the
ground. The cistern was paved with large squares of limestone,
which seemed to fit perfectly. Roland looked for his second ball as
persistently as for the first. A stone lay loose at his feet, and,
pushing it aside, he disclosed an iron ring screwed into one of the
limestone blocks.

Without a word Roland seized the ring, braced his feet and pulled.
The square turned on its pivot with an ease which proved that it
was frequently subjected to the same manipulation. As