d and ignorant. It is a cruel and a wicked
art without doubt, and it says here that the children who are caught and
subjected to these trances and laid under this spiritual bondage seldom
live long; and that but for this, there seems no end to the wonders that
might be performed. But the strain upon their spirits almost always
results in madness or death, and thus the art never makes the strides
that those who practise it long to see."

John was turning the leaves of the book as he spoke, reading a word here
and there as if to refresh his memory. The Gascon brothers listened with
breathless interest, and suddenly Raymond started to his feet, saying:

"John, thou hast spoken of a knightly quest that would win no praise
from man, but yet be such as a true knight would fain undertake. Would
not the rescue of yon wretched boy from the evil thraldom of that wicked
sorcerer be such a task as that? Is not Basildene ours? Is it not for us
to free it from the curse of such pollution? Is not that child one of
the oppressed and wronged that it is the duty of a true servant of the
old chivalry to rescue at all costs?

"Gaston, wilt thou go with me? Shall we snatch from the clutches of this
devilish old man the boy whose story we have heard today? Methinks I can
never rest happy till the thing is done. Will not a curse light upon the
very house itself if these dark deeds go on within its walls? Who can
have a better right to avert such curse than we -- its rightful lords?"

Gaston sprang to his feet, and threw back his head with a proud and
defiant gesture.

"Verily I will go with thee, Brother. I would gladly strike a blow for
the freedom of the boy and against the despoiler of our mother's house.
I would fain go this very day."

Both brothers looked to John, as if asking his sanction for the act. He
closed his book, and raised his eyes with a smile; but he advocated
prudence, and patience too.

"In truth, methinks it would be a deed of charity and true chivalry, yet
one by no means without its peril and its risk. Old Sanghurst is a wily
and a cruel foe, and failure would but mean more tyranny and suffering
for the miserable victim he holds in his relentless hands. It might lead
also to some mysterious vengeance upon you yourselves. There are ugly
whispers breathed abroad about the old man and his evil practices.
Travellers through these forest tracks, richly laden, have been known to
disappear, and no man has heard of them