ully
filled up, every window that was wide enough to admit the passage of a
human form was guarded by iron bars, and the doors were solid enough to
defy for a long time the assault of battering rams.

"It is not in ghostly terrors he mainly trusts to guard his house,"
whispered Raymond, as they skirted round into the dim darkness of the
dense woodland that lay behind the house. "Methinks if he had in very
truth a guard of evil spirits, he would not be so careful of his bolts
and bars."

Gaston was willing enough to believe this; for though he feared no human
foe, he was by no means free from the superstitious terrors of the age,
and it needed all his coolness of head, as well as all his confidence in
the righteousness of his cause, to keep his heart from fluttering with
fear as they stepped along beneath the gloom of the trees, which even
when not in leaf cast dense shadows around them. It was in truth a weird
spot: owls hooted dismally about them, bats flitted here and there in
their erratic flight, and sometimes almost brushed the faces of the boys
with their clammy wings. The strange noises always to be heard in a wood
at night assailed their ears, and mingled with the quick beating of
their own hearts; whilst from time to time a long unearthly wail, which
seemed to proceed from the interior of the house itself, filled them
with an unreasoning sense of terror that they would not confess even to
themselves.

"It is like the wail of a lost spirit," whispered Raymond at the third
repetition of the cry. "Brother, let us say a prayer, and go forward in
the power of the Blessed Virgin and her Holy Son."

For a moment the brothers knelt in prayer, as the priest had bidden them
if heart or spirit quailed.

Then rising, strengthened and supported, they looked carefully about
them, and Gaston, grasping his brother by the arm, pointed through the
trees and said:

"The water, the water! sure I see a gleam of moonlight upon it! We have
reached the fish ponds, I verily believe! Now for the secret way to the
house!"

It was true enough. A few steps brought them to the margin of a large
piece of water, which was something between a lake and a series of fish
ponds, such as are so often seen by old houses. Once the lake had
plainly been larger, but had partially drained away, and was now
confined to various levels by means of a rude dam and a sort of gate
like that of a modern lock. Still the boys could trace a likeness to th