d and
shuttered, and before us the portal of the castle, surmounted with
quaint stone carvings of men in armor riding prancing steeds. The court,
as revealed by the moonlight, was intact, but neglected. Weeds were
sprouting between the square blocks of stone that paved it, and in the
center a wide circular space, charred and blackened, showed where the
German sentries had built their fires. It was not cheerful, nor was it
homey. I scarcely blamed Marie-Jeanne for flitting. The faint sound of
the cannonading had begun again in the distance, but otherwise the place
was as silent as a tomb.

"It seems strange!" Miss Falconer murmured, looking about in puzzled
fashion. "Why in the world should she have left the gate open in this
careless way? Of course there is nothing here for thieves; the Germans
saw to that; but still, as keeper--Oh, well, it doesn't matter. It saves
us from waiting till she comes home."

As I followed her toward the castle entrance, she opened the bag she
carried, and produced a candle, which I hastened to take and light. I
nearly said, "The latest thing in the housebreaking line, madame, is
electric torches, not tapers;" but I decided not to. After all, perhaps
we were housebreakers. How could I tell?

Hot candle wax splashed my fingers and scorched them, but I scarcely
noticed. My sense of high-gear adventure had reached its zenith now.
There was something thrilling, something stimulating in this stealthy
night entrance into a deserted castle. It was an experience, at all
events; there was no _concierge_ to stump before one through dim
passages and up winding staircases; no flood of dates and names and
anecdotes poured inexorably into one's bored ears to insure a _douceur_
when the tour of the chateau should be done.

The door--faithless Marie-Jeanne!--opened as readily as the outer gate.
We were entering. I glimpsed in a dim vista a superb Gothic hall of
magnificent architecture and most imposing proportions, arched and
carved and stretching off with apparent endlessness into the gloom.
Holding up my light, I scanned the place with growing interest. It had
not been demolished, but neither had it been spared. The furniture
was gone, save for a few scattered chairs and a table; the walls were
defaced with cartoons and scrawled inscriptions; the floor was
stained, and littered with empty bottles and broken plates. From the
chimney-place--a medieval-art jewel topped with carved and colored
enamels--