penetrated this subterranean vault, and no sound broke the stillness.

"This be the castle's crypt," whispered Joan; "and they do say that strange

happenings occur here in the still watches of the night, and that when the

castle sleeps, the castle's dead rise from their coffins and shake their

dry bones.

"Sh ! What was that ?" as a rustling noise broke upon their ears close

upon their right; and then there came a distinct moan, and Joan de Tany

fled to the refuge of Norman of Torn's arms.

"There is nothing to fear, Joan," reassured Norman of Torn. "Dead men

wield not swords, nor do they move, or moan. The wind, I think, and rats

are our only companions here."

"I am afraid," she whispered. "If you can make a light, I am sure you will

find an old lamp here in the crypt, and then will it be less fearsome. As

a child I visited this castle often, and in search of adventure, we passed

through these corridors an hundred times, but always by day and with

lights."

Norman of Torn did as she bid, and finding the lamp, lighted it. The

chamber was quite empty save for the coffins in their niches, and some

effigies in marble set at intervals about the walls.

"Not such a fearsome place after all," he said, laughing lightly.

"No place would seem fearsome now," she answered simply, "were there a

light to show me that the brave face of Roger de Conde were by my side."

"Hush, child," replied the outlaw. "You know not what you say. When you

know me better, you will be sorry for your words, for Roger de Conde is not

what you think him. So say no more of praise until we be out of this hole,

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