ge rounded ivy-grown walls, and the little narrow holes in the
sides they show at its highest point that indicate the position of the
haunted chamber.

What is there at this moment in a mere glimpse of this old tower to make
Arthur Dynecourt grow pale and to start so strangely? His eyes grow
brighter, his lips tighten and grow hard.

"Do you remember," he says, turning to his cousin with all the air of
one to whom a sudden inspiration has come, "that day on which we visited
the haunted chamber? Miss Delmaine accompanied us, did she not?"

"Yes"--looking at him expectantly.

"Could she have dropped it there?" asks Arthur lightly. "By Jove, it
would be odd if she had--eh? Uncanny sort of place to drop one's
trinkets."

"It is strange I didn't think of it before," responds Adrian, evidently
struck by the suggestion. "Why, it must have been just about that time
when she lost it. The more I think of it the more convinced I feel that
it must be there."

"Nonsense, my dear fellow; don't jump at conclusions so hastily! It is
highly improbable. I should say that she dropped it anywhere else in the
world."

"Well, I'll go and see, at all events," declares Adrian, unconvinced.

Is it some lingering remnant of grace, some vague human shrinking from
the crime that has begun to form itself within his busy brain, that now
induces Dynecourt to try to dissuade Sir Adrian from his declared
intention to search the haunted chamber for the lost bangle? With all
his eloquence he seeks to convince him that there the bangle could not
have been left, but to no effect. His suggestion has taken firm root in
Sir Adrian's mind, and at least, as he frankly says, though it may be
useless to hunt for it in that uncanny chamber, it is worth a try. It
may be there. This dim possibility drives him on to his fate.

"Well, if you go alone and unprotected, your blood be on your own head,"
says Dynecourt lightly, at last surrendering his position. "Remember,
whatever happens, I advised you not to go!"

As Arthur finishes his speech a sinister smile overspreads his pale
features, and a quick light, as evil as it is piercing, comes into his
eyes. But Sir Adrian sees nothing of this. He is looking at his home, as
it stands grand and majestic in the red light of the dying sun. He is
looking, too, at the old tower, and at the upper portion of it, where
the haunted chamber stands, and where he can see the long narrow holes
that serve for windows. How l