f considerable ingenuity in the
builder's art. Plainly, too, there had been a time when the ground
around the house had been cared for and kept trim and garden-like.

Now it was but a waste and wilderness, everything growing wild and
tangled around it; whilst the very edifice itself seemed crumbling to
decay, and wore the grim look of a place of evil repute. It was hard to
believe that any person lived within those walls. It was scarce possible
to approach within the precincts of that lonely house without a shudder
of chill horror.

Gaston crossed himself as he stood looking on the house, which, by what
men said, was polluted by many foul deeds, and tenanted by evil spirits
to boot; but upon Raymond's face was a different look. His heart went
suddenly out to the lonely old house. He felt that he could love it well
if it were ever given to him to win it back. As he stood there in the
moonlight gazing and gazing, he registered anew in his heart the vow
that the day should come when he would fulfil his mother's dying behest,
and stand within those halls as the recognized lord of Basildene.

But the present moment was one for action, not for vague dreamings. The
brothers had come with a definite purpose, and they did not intend to
quit the spot until that purpose was accomplished. The Sanghursts --
father and son -- were far away. The gloomy house -- unless guarded by
malevolent spirits, which did not appear unlikely -- was almost
tenantless. Within its walls was the miserable victim of cruel tyranny
whom they had come to release. The boys, who had both confessed and
received the Blessed Sacrament from the hands of the priest who had
interested himself before in the woodman's son, felt strong in the
righteousness of their cause. If they experienced some fear, as was not
unlikely, they would not own it even to themselves. Gaston was filled
with the soldier spirit of the day, that scorned to turn back upon
danger however great. Raymond was supported by a deep underlying sense
of the sacredness of the cause in which he was embarked. It was not
alone that he was going to deal a blow at the foes of his house; it was
much more to him than that. Vengeance might play a part in the crusade,
but to him it was a secondary idea. What he thought of was the higher
chivalry of which he and John had spoken so much together -- the rescue
of a soul from the clutches of spiritual tyranny; a blow struck in the
defence of one helpless and opp