d our cloaks and sleep here."

They said the well-known compline psalms, familiar then in England
from their nightly use. Then, replenishing the fire at the expense
of some rude oaken benches, and barring the door, they all strove
to sleep. A watch seemed needless. The fear was that they would all
be found watching when they should be sleeping.

But yet whether from extreme fatigue or any other cause, they did
all fall asleep.

In the dead hour of the night Hubert alone awoke, with the
consciousness that someone was gazing upon him. He looked up. There
was the figure which had so often tormented his poor father, the
slain Frenchman, the last Sieur de Fievrault, pale and gory, his
hand on the wound in his side.

"Speak, dread phantom! What dost thou want with me? I go to do thy
bidding, to fulfil thy vow."

"Thank God! Thou hast spoken, and I may speak, too. Thou goest to
do my bidding in love for thy father, to fulfil my vow. Alas, many
trials await thee. Canst thou face them?"

"I can do all man can do."

"So I imagine from thy bold bearing in this haunted castle of my
ancestors. It is well. Only go forward, whatever happens. Thou
shalt not perish. Thou shalt deliver thy father and me, condemned
as yet to walk this lower earth, till the vow my own misconduct
made me unworthy to fulfil is fulfilled by thee. Fare thee well,
and fear not."

And the figure disappeared.

Hubert felt a sense of blessed relief, under which he fell asleep
again, and did not awake until aroused by a cry of terror. He
started up. Almeric and all the men were on their feet, like
frenzied beings, gazing into the darkness which enveloped the end
of the hall. Then they rushed with a wild cry at the door, which
they unbarred with eager hands, and issued into the darkness. He
heard a heavy fall, as if one, perhaps two, had missed the steps
and gone headlong into the courtyard.

Terror is contagious, but Hubert saw nothing as yet to fear.

"Come back, ye cowards! Shame on ye!" he cried, but cried in
vain--he was alone in the haunted hall.

The fact was that Hubert felt as if he personally had made his
peace with the mysterious haunters of the castle, and had nothing
to fear. So he did not stir, but was even able to sleep again until
aroused by the aged janitor, just as the blessed light of dawn was
pouring through the oriel window.

"I warned you, my lord," he said.

"You did. The fault, and the punishment, too, is ours. But where