ill, too,' said Anthea.

Robert was not pleased at being checked in his flight of fancy.

'You girls will never be great writers,' he said bitterly. 'They just
love to think of things in dungeons, and chains, and knobbly bare human
bones, and--'

Jane had opened her mouth to scream, but before she could decide how you
began when you wanted to faint, the golden voice of the Phoenix spoke
through the gloom.

'Peace!' it said; 'there are no bones here except the small but useful
sets that you have inside you. And you did not invite me to come out
with you to hear you talk about bones, but to see you do some good and
kind action.'

'We can't do it here,' said Robert, sulkily.

'No,' rejoined the bird. 'The only thing we can do here, it seems, is to
try to frighten our little sisters.'

'He didn't, really, and I'm not so VERY little,' said Jane, rather
ungratefully.

Robert was silent. It was Cyril who suggested that perhaps they had
better take the money and go.

'That wouldn't be a kind act, except to ourselves; and it wouldn't be
good, whatever way you look at it,' said Anthea, 'to take money that's
not ours.'

'We might take it and spend it all on benefits to the poor and aged,'
said Cyril.

'That wouldn't make it right to steal,' said Anthea, stoutly.

'I don't know,' said Cyril. They were all standing up now. 'Stealing is
taking things that belong to some one else, and there's no one else.'

'It can't be stealing if--'

'That's right,' said Robert, with ironical approval; 'stand here all day
arguing while the candles burn out. You'll like it awfully when it's all
dark again--and bony.'

'Let's get out, then,' said Anthea. 'We can argue as we go.' So they
rolled up the carpet and went. But when they had crept along to the
place where the passage led into the topless tower they found the way
blocked by a great stone, which they could not move.

'There!' said Robert. 'I hope you're satisfied!'

'Everything has two ends,' said the Phoenix, softly; 'even a quarrel or
a secret passage.'

So they turned round and went back, and Robert was made to go first with
one of the candles, because he was the one who had begun to talk about
bones. And Cyril carried the carpet.

'I wish you hadn't put bones into our heads,' said Jane, as they went
along.

'I didn't; you always had them. More bones than brains,' said Robert.

The passage was long, and there were arches and steps and turnings and
dark alcoves t