ght gave them a better illumination by
this time. He hitched his horse, and Rusty followed his example with
trembling fingers.

"Now, light the lamps. My, but those lamps would sell for a fortune in
a Fourth Avenue antique shop!"

Rusty obeyed silently.

Then followed the most horrible experience of Rusty's life, in what
seemed an endless exploration. They trod along weirdly echoing
corridors, through spacious chambers, where ancient tapestries hung
from the walls, while strange _debris_ lay about amidst the curious
carved furniture. Everything was covered by a pall of dust. Squealing
and scurrying, the shining eyes and ghastly noises betrayed the
presence of myriad rats.

"What can they find to live on?" wondered Warren.

From the high battlements they peered into the valley, and could see a
few faint lights in the distant inn. Warren felt sure that one of those
lights was in the room of her Highness.

They explored the bedchambers of the lords and ladies of the castle,
the little pigeonholes in which the men-at-arms must have slept.
Strange subtle odors met them like an actual presence as they peered
into dungeons, stone chambers, and horrid vaults.

"I don't even see why a ghost would want ter hang around dis misserable
place, Marse Warren," ventured Rusty, as for the second time they
entered the largest room of all, within the central keep.

"We've been here before, Rusty," replied Warren, sitting down for a
moment on an old bench. Rusty looked around with rolling eyes.

Suddenly Jarvis jumped up and sniffed.

"Yes, and someone else has been here before. Do you smell that, Rusty?"

"Marse Warren, I'm so skeered dat I can't smell nuthin',--I can' see
nuthin', hear nuthin'--except dem moans and yowls in all dose powerful
big rooms we was in."

"The room's full of smoke and the smell of oil." Jarvis walked about,
to make certain. "Somebody's been carrying a smoky lantern. We're
getting warmer with that ghost."

A dull thud came to their ears, from far within the building. Rusty
jumped like a frightened fawn.

"Good godelmity! What's dat?"

Jarvis quietly walked across the room, to peer into the big stone
fireplace.

"Oh, Marse Warren, I want to go home!"

Rusty had turned about, and his eyes took in two figures of ancient
armor at the top of the broad half-flight of stairs, on a balcony dais.
He sank upon his knees and bobbed his head to the floor in obeisance.

"What's the matter?" and Jarvis w