t
have played with our hearts if he had had more imagination."

Then both girls lay still listening to the storm, each one thinking of
another good reason she had for not falling in love with poor Philippe,
even if he had been gifted with the imagination of a Byron.

"Oh, what a clap of thunder!" Judy clutched Molly and held her close. "I
have always been more afraid of thunder than lightning. Molly, I wonder
if Elizabeth's footprints wouldn't be visible on such a night? Let's go
see. I can't sleep for thinking of her. We can easily get there without
being seen or heard."

Wrapped in their kimonos and armed with Judy's electric searchlight and
a big pitcher of water, as Philippe had said the floor must be wet to
bring out the footprints, the girls made their way to the haunted
chapel. They groped along narrow passages connecting the new chateau
with the old. There was an entrance to the chapel through the old
chateau made since the fatal night of Saint Bartholomew, but the girls
were not aware of it. They opened a narrow door on the court and ran
through the pouring rain to the great door of the chapel. It was not
locked but very heavy and it took their combined strength to push it
open. The few moments that it took to accomplish this were enough for
them to become wet to the skin.

How dark and grewsome the chapel was! The storm was raging. Looking up
through the cracks in the little steeple, they could see flash after
flash of continuous white lightning. They might have spared themselves
the trouble of bringing the pitcher of water as the floor was already
very wet from the leaks in the steeple. Molly clutched Judy, trying to
keep from screaming, as something brushed her cheek.

"Something touched me! There it is again!" But the searchlight proved it
to be nothing more than a great thick rope hanging from the steeple.

"Could it be the one the Jesuit came down?" gasped Judy.

"Hardly," whispered Molly. "Ropes don't last four hundred years. It must
be the bell rope."

"Of course," exclaimed Judy, reassured. "What a stupid I am! But come
on, we must examine the floor. Let's see: she started at the altar where
she had concealed the boy, and then ran towards the door. The footprints
should be along here where we are standing. Not enough wetness here."
Judy turned over the pitcher and Molly had to jump to keep her feet out
of the water. The girls stooped and began examining every inch of the
flagging.

"Judy, Ju