fear one thing."

"What is that?"

"That in your double capacity of an Englishman and a heretic they won't
feel at ease with you."

"Oh," replied Sir John, gravely, "what a pity I shall not have time to
abjure before this evening."

The two friends, having seen all there was to see, returned to the
chateau. No one, not even Amelie, had suspected that their walk was
other than an ordinary one. The day passed without questions and without
apparent anxiety; besides, it was already late when the two gentlemen
returned.

At dinner, to Edouard's great delight, another hunt was proposed, and
it furnished a topic for conversation during dinner and part of the
evening. By ten o'clock, as usual, all had retired to their rooms,
except Roland, who was in that of Sir John.

The difference of character showed itself markedly in the preparations
of the two men. Roland had made them joyously, as if for a pleasure
trip; Sir John made his gravely, as if for a duel. He loaded his pistols
with the utmost care and put them into his belt English fashion. And,
instead of a cloak, which might have impeded his movements, he wore a
top-coat with a high collar put on over his other coat.

At half-past ten the pair left the house with the same precautions that
Roland had observed when alone. It was five minutes before eleven when
they reached the broken window, where the fallen stones served as a
stepping-block. There, according to agreement, they were to part. Sir
John, reminded Roland of this agreement.

"Yes," said Roland, "an agreement is an agreement with me. Only, let me
give you a piece of advice."

"What is it?"

"I could not find the bullets because some one had been here and carried
them off; and that was done beyond doubt to prevent me from seeing the
dents on them."

"What sort of dent do you mean?"

"Those of the links of a coat of mail; my ghost was a man in armor."

"That's too bad!" said Sir John; "I hoped for a ghost." Then, after a
moment's silence and a sigh expressive of his deep regret in resigning
the ghost, he asked: "What was your advice?"

"Fire at his face!"

Sir John nodded assent, pressed the young officer's hand, clambered
through the window and disappeared in the sacristy.

"Good-night!" called Roland after him. Then with the indifference to
danger which a soldier generally feels for himself and his companions,
Roland took his way back to the Chateau des Noires-Fontaines, as he had
promised Sir J