aying:

"Sleep in peace, lady, for here you are perfectly safe."

CHAPTER II.

WHAT WAS SOUGHT, AND WHAT WAS FOUND.

They sought her that night, and they sought her next day,
They sought her in vain till a week passed away.
The highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot,
Her husband sought wildly, but found her not.--THE MISTLETOE BOUGH.

When Lyon Berners and his faithful servant returned to the Haunted
Chapel, after having comfortably disposed of their horses for the rest
of the night, the interior was still so dark that they did not at first
discover the absence of Sybil, especially as the covering lay heaped
upon the mattress so like a sleeping form, that even in a less murky
darkness it might have been mistaken for her.

As it was now very cold, Mr. Berners, who had found a tinder-box and a
coil of wax tapers among his other effects in the wagon, struck a light,
with the intention of kindling a fire.

Joe brought some broken sticks and dry brushwood from the far corner
where Lyon Berners had piled it up just before the flight from the
chapel, and between the master and man they soon kindled a cheerful
blaze that lighted up every nook and crevice of the old interior.

Then Mr. Berners turned toward the mattress to see how his wife might be
sleeping.

"Why, she is not here! She has waked up and walked out," he exclaimed,
in some surprise and annoyance, but not in the least alarm, for he
naturally supposed that she had only left the chapel for a few minutes,
and would soon return.

"Hi! whar de debbil she took herself off to, all alone, dis onlawful
time o' de night?" cried Joe, in dismay.

"Oh, not far! She will soon be back again," answered Mr. Berners
cheerfully. And then he took one of the blankets from the mattress and
folded it up for a seat, and sat down upon it near the fire, and
stretched his benumbed hands over the blaze. Joe followed his example,
stretching out his hands also, and staring across the fire at his
master--staring at such a rate that Mr. Berners, feeling somewhat
inconvenienced, sharply demanded:

"What the deuce do you mean by that, Joe?"

"I want to go and sarch for my mistess. I don't feel satisfied into my
own mind about her."

"Why, what are you afraid of, man?"

"_Ghostesses._"

"Absurd!"

"Well, now, no it an't, marster. I've knowed Miss Sybil longer'n you
have. I've knowed her ever since she was born, and I don't believe as
she'd go out all a