oys me, even in the midst of this, my affliction, to find
one at least who is determined to do him full justice. We cannot find
such contradictions in nature as that a mind, full of noble impulses,
should stoop to such a sudden act of selfishness as those letters would
attribute to Charles Holland. It cannot--cannot be."

"You are right, my dear. And now, Master Henry, you be off, will you, if
you please."

"I am off now. Farewell, Flora, for a brief space."

"Farewell, brother; and Heaven speed you on your errand."

"Amen to that," cried the admiral; "and now, my dear, if you have got
half an hour to spare, just tuck your arm under mine, and take a walk
with me in the garden, for I want to say something to you."

"Most willingly," said Flora.

"I would not advise you to stray far from the house, Miss Bannerworth,"
said Marchdale.

"Nobody asked you for advice," said the admiral. "D----e, do you want to
make out that I ain't capable of taking care of her?"

"No, no; but--"

"Oh, nonsense! Come along, my dear; and if all the vampyres and odd fish
that were ever created were to come across our path, we would settle
them somehow or another. Come along, and don't listen to anybody's
croaking."

CHAPTER XXIX.

A PEEP THROUGH AN IRON GRATING.--THE LONELY PRISONER IN HIS
DUNGEON.--THE MYSTERY.

[Illustration]

Without forestalling the interest of our story, or recording a fact in
its wrong place, we now call our readers' attention to a circumstance
which may, at all events, afford some food for conjecture.

Some distance from the Hall, which, from time immemorial, had been the
home and the property of the Bannerworth family, was an ancient ruin
known by the name of the Monks' Hall.

It was conjectured that this ruin was the remains of some one of those
half monastic, half military buildings which, during the middle ages,
were so common in almost every commanding situation in every county of
England.

At a period of history when the church arrogated to itself an amount of
political power which the intelligence of the spirit of the age now
denies to it, and when its members were quite ready to assert at any
time the truth of their doctrines by the strong arm of power, such
buildings as the one, the old grey ruins of which were situated near to
Bannerworth Hall, were erected.

Ostensibly for religious purposes, but really as a stronghold for
defence, as well as for aggression, this Monks' Hall, as i