alling to him out of the trees. If he knocked here, would the
people admit him in his present state?--he had sense enough to know that
he was very drunk. As he shook his head in owlish gravity, he saw the
church on the hill not far away. He chuckled to himself. The carpet in
the chancel and the hassocks at the altar would make a good bed. No fear
of Charley's ghost coming inside the church--it wouldn't be that kind of
a ghost. As he travelled the intervening space, shrugging his shoulders,
staggering serenely, he told himself in confidence that he would leave
the church at dawn, go to the tavern, purchase a horse as soon as might
be, and get back to his wagon.

The church door was unlocked, and he entered and made his way to the
chancel, found surplices in the vestry and put a hassock inside one for
a pillow. Then he sat down and drew the loose rug of the chancel-floor
over him, and took another drink from the whiskey horn. Lighting his
pipe, he smoked for a while, but grew drowsy, and his pipe fell into his
lap. With eyes nearly shut he struck another match, made to light his
pipe again, but threw the match away, still burning. As he did so
the pipe dropped again from his mouth, and he fell back on the
hassock-pillow he had made.

The lighted match fell on a surplice which had dropped from his arms
as he came from the vestry, and set it afire. In five minutes the whole
chancel was burning, and the sleeping man waked in the midst of smoke
and flame. He staggered to his feet with a terror-stricken cry, stumbled
down the aisle, through the front door, and out into the night. Reaching
the road, he turned his face again to the hill where his wagon lay hid.
If he could reach that, he would be safe; nobody would suspect him.
He clutched the whiskey-horn tight and broke into a run. As he passed
beyond the village his excited imagination heard Charley Steele's ghost
calling after him. He ran harder. The voice kept calling from Chaudiere.

Not Charley's voice, but the voices of many people in Chaudiere were
calling. Some wakeful person had seen the glare in the church windows
and had given the alarm, and now there rang through the streets the
call-"Fire! Fire! Fire!"

Charley and Jo were among the last to wake, for both had slept soundly,
but Jo was roused by a handful of gravel thrown at his window and a
warning cry, and a few moments later he and Charley were in the street
with a hurrying crowd. Over all the village was a r