he courtyard of the Guildhall would ring
the caretaker's bell, as a signal that the place might be closed.

To-day the bell had been broken, and the caretaker, noticing the High
School girls go away, must have come upstairs afterwards, and seeing the
museum door shut had locked it, thinking Miss Renton had gone with the
others. The three unfortunate prisoners were aghast. It seemed almost
too bad to be true. They all tried the door in turns, they knocked, they
thumped, and they called. There was no response except a dull echo.

"Why couldn't the caretaker look inside to make sure we were gone before
he locked up?" asked Marion, half-crying.

"Perhaps he did, and we were inside the little oratory. It's my own
stupid fault for shutting the door. I ought to have thought about it. It
never struck me he might come upstairs and think we were gone."

"Will he be coming up again?"

"It's not at all likely. He's probably gone home."

"Won't anybody else hear us if we knock and call?"

"I'm dreadfully afraid not, but we'll try again."

So once more they thumped and shouted and the old hall echoed, but
nobody came to release them. The situation was serious. If the caretaker
had gone home they were very much locked in, for not only was the door
of the museum secured, but also the door of the big hall, and the door
leading to the courtyard. Until to-morrow morning they were as good as
prisoners.

There still, however, remained the window. Miss Renton climbed on a
chair and peered through the small leaded panes. Unfortunately, instead
of opening on to the street, it only overlooked a kind of sunk well
among the buildings, so it would be impossible to attract the attention
of anybody outside.

Marion's eyes were filling with tears.

"Mother'll be _so_ anxious when I don't turn up," she gulped. "She'll
never think of coming to the museum to look for me."

"Nobody will," said Lesbia with a suspicious quaver in her voice.

"It'll be simply ghastly to stay here all night."

"And so cold."

"I'd give worlds for some tea."

"We have each other's company at any rate," consoled Miss Renton. "Be
glad you weren't locked in alone."

"Alone! Oh, I'd go mad!"

"So should I. I'd be afraid of the dark, and of spooks, and of rats,
and of all sorts of horrible things. Yes, I'd be absolutely raving in
less than ten minutes."

"And yet, in the Middle Ages, girls were sometimes shut up alone in
prisons far more dismal than this ro