t a hurry. I want to get home at once."

"Then we'll fetch it for you," said Lindsay.

"Oh, thanks so much! Will you take it to school, please, and give it to
me to-morrow, so that I needn't wait now? Good-bye!" and Monica hastened
away as fast as possible in the direction of the cottage.

Lindsay and Cicely walked leisurely into the church again, and found the
missing piece of music lying on a seat near the organ. They were
returning down the aisle when Cicely said:

"Which is the tomb of Sir Roger Courtenay and Catharine Mowbray?"

"Monica said it was the one in the small side chapel," replied Lindsay.
"Shall we go and look at it?"

What an old monument it was! Four centuries had passed away since it was
placed over those who slept beneath. The carving was chipped and the
marble scratched; part of Sir Roger's head was broken away, and one of
poor Dame Catharine's clasped hands; and the letters of the inscription
were so worn and effaced that it was with difficulty the girls could
make out even a few words.

"It's in Latin, so we couldn't have understood it in any case," said
Lindsay.

"How funny her costume is!" said Cicely. "She has a coif on her head,
and very long sleeves; and he is in full armour. It makes them seem much
more real people when we know their story."

"Can you imagine them living at the Manor?"

"I can hardly believe there was ever a fight going on inside this
church."

"And people killing one another!"

"I suppose Sir Mervyn ran through this door up into the tower."

"I wonder if the stain is still on the bell?" said Lindsay.

"The story was that nothing could ever take it off."

"Shall we go up and see if it's really there?"

"What! Up into the belfry?"

"Yes. Why not?"

"Well, isn't it getting too late, and a little dark?"

"Not yet."

"All right, then," assented Cicely, agreeing as usual with Lindsay's
proposal.

The small, nail-studded oak door leading to the tower stood open, and
they could see that there was a winding staircase inside. There was
nobody to forbid them to explore, and though they knew they were due
back at the Manor they considered they might allow themselves a little
latitude in the way of time. It was rather dark up the corkscrew stairs,
though there was a slit every now and then in the wall to admit air and
light. At the top they found themselves in a square room, where the
clerk evidently pulled the bell on Sundays, for the rope was hanging
within