had all but lost sight of her in the great curve. At the room
in which Donal first saw the earl, she stopped.

The door was open, but there was no light within. She led him across to
the door of the little chamber behind. A murmur, but no light, came
from it. In a moment it was gone, and the deepest silence filled the
world. Arctura entered. One step within the door she stood still, and
held high her taper. Donal looked in sideways.

A small box was on the floor against the foot of the farthest wall, and
on the box, in a long dressing gown of rich faded stuff, the silk and
gold in which shone feebly in the dim light, stood the tall meagre form
of the earl, with his back to the door, his face to the wall, close to
it, and his arms and hands stretched out against it, like one upon a
cross. He stood without moving a muscle or uttering a sound. What could
it mean? Donal gazed in a blank dismay.

Not a minute had passed, though it was to him a long and painful time,
when the murmuring came again. He listened as to a voice from another
world--a thing terrible to those whose fear dwells in another world.
But to Donal it was terrible as a voice from no other world could have
been; it came from an unseen world of sin and suffering--a world almost
a negation of the eternal, a world of darkness and the shadow of death.
But surely there was hope for that world yet!--for whose were the words
in which its indwelling despair grew audible?

"And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but
this man hath done nothing amiss!"

Again the silence fell, but the form did not move, and still they stood
regarding him.

From far away came the sound of the ghost-music. The head against the
wall began to move as if waking from sleep. The hands sank along the
wall and fell by the sides. The earl gave a deep sigh, but still stood
leaning his forehead against the wall.

Arctura turned, and they left the room.

She went down the stair, and on to the library. Its dark oak cases and
old bindings reflected hardly a ray of the poor taper she carried; but
the fire was not yet quite out. She set down the light, and looked at
Donal in silence.

"What does it all mean?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"God knows!" she returned solemnly.

"Are we safe?" he asked. "May he not come here?"

"I do not think he will. I have seen him in many parts of the house,
but never here."

Even as she spoke the door swung noiselessly open,