es, dear Mrs. Berners; since I promised to bring it, I felt bound to
do so; though I hope you will not really have it put to use."

"Just as soon as supper is over, I will have that door forced open. I
will see what that mysterious vault holds," said Sybil, firmly.

And she almost kept her word.

As soon as they had finished the evening meal, she arose and called upon
the gentlemen to go with her and force the door of the vault.

And they went and inserted the crowbar between the grating and the
stonework, and wrenched with all their united strength; but their
efforts availed nothing, even to move the door.

They gave over their exertions to recover their breath, and when they
had got it they began again with renewed vigor; but with no better
success. Again they stopped to breathe, and again they re-commenced the
task with all their might; but after working as hard as they could for
fifteen minutes longer, they again ceased from sheer exhaustion, leaving
the door as fast as they had found it.

"It is of no use to try longer, Sybil. We cannot force it," said Mr.
Berners.

"I see that you cannot. The vault keeps its secrets well," she answered,
solemnly.

And then they returned to their seats near the fire, and sat and talked
over the projected journey until it was time for Captain Pendleton to
go.

When the husband and wife were left alone, they felt themselves tired
enough to go to rest, with a prospect of getting a good night's sleep.

"This is the last night that we shall spend in this place, dear Sybil,"
said Lyon Berners, as he put the smouldering brands together to keep the
fire up till morning.

Sybil replied with a deep yawn.

And in a few minutes they laid down to rest, and in a very few more they
fell asleep.

How long they had slept Sybil had no means of knowing, when she was
awakened by an impression that some cold damp creature had laid down on
the front of the mattress close beside her. She opened her eyes and
strained them around in a vague dread, but the inside of the chapel was
dark as pitch. The fire had gone entirely out; she could not even see
the outlines of the Gothic windows; all was black as Tartarus. But
still--oh, horror!--she felt the cold damp form pressing close beside
her.

A speechless, breathless awe possessed her. She could not scream, but
she cautiously put out her hand to make sure whether she was dreaming,
when--horror upon horror!--it touched a clammy face!

Still