save
little Stephen, if he could, from such a memory. He would not give any
reason for refusing to go in.

He blew out the candle, and turned the key in the lock, took it out, and
put it in his pocket.

'Come, Stephen!' he said, 'let us go somewhere else. We will not go into
the crypt to-day!'

'Why not?' The lips that spoke were pouted mutinously and the face was
flushed. The imperious little lady was not at all satisfied to give up
the cherished project. For a whole day and night she had, whilst waking,
thought of the coming adventure; the thrill of it was not now to be
turned to cold disappointment without even an explanation. She did not
think that Harold was afraid; that would be ridiculous. But she
wondered; and mysteries always annoyed her. She did not like to be at
fault, more especially when other people knew. All the pride in her
revolted.

'Why not?' she repeated more imperiously still.

Harold said kindly:

'Because, Stephen, there is really a good reason. Don't ask me, for I
can't tell you. You must take it from me that I am right. You know,
dear, that I wouldn't willingly disappoint you; and I know that you had
set your heart on this. But indeed, indeed I have a good reason.'

Stephen was really angry now. She was amenable to reason, though she did
not consciously know what reason was; but to accept some one else's
reason blindfold was repugnant to her nature, even at her then age. She
was about to speak angrily, but looking up she saw that Harold's mouth
was set with marble firmness. So, after her manner, she acquiesced in
the inevitable and said:

'All right! Harold.'

But in the inner recesses of her firm-set mind was a distinct intention
to visit the vault when more favourable circumstances would permit.

CHAPTER V--THE CRYPT

It was some weeks before Stephen got the chance she wanted. She knew it
would be difficult to evade Harold's observation, for the big boy's
acuteness as to facts had impressed itself on her. It was strange that
out of her very trust in Harold came a form of distrust in others. In
the little matter of evading him she inclined to any one in whom there
was his opposite, in whose reliability she instinctively mistrusted.
'There is nothing bad or good but thinking makes it so!' To enter that
crypt, which had seemed so small a matter at first, had now in process of
thinking and wishing and scheming become a thing to be much desired.
Harold sa