a fascination for Marjory, and yet she could
never go through it without a shiver of something like awe. What had
these mouldering walls seen? What tales could they tell if they could
speak? Then her heart would swell with pride at the thought that she
came of a long line of Hunters who had lived here and made the name
famous. She, too, must do her part. Sometimes she would wish that she
bore the old name; then she would rebuke herself for the thought, which
was like treason to that unknown father of hers.

They went carefully through each room. There was nothing unusual in any
of them; old boxes, pieces of broken furniture, rusty bits of iron
strewed the place. One thing took Blanche's fancy. It was in a tiny room
opening out of one of the large ones, and was so big that it almost
filled it. It was an immense chest, studded with nails, and ornamented
with handsome brass hasps.

"It's like the chest in the 'Mistletoe Bough,'" cried Blanche. "Do let's
try to open it."

But try as they would, they could make no impression upon it. It was
locked, and to break it open would require greater strength than theirs.

"I do wish we could get it open," said Blanche, when at last they gave
up trying. "Do you think Peter could do it?"

"He doesn't much like coming here," was the reply. "He always says the
old walls might fall in at any time; but since you told me about the
lights being seen, I've been thinking that perhaps he has heard about
them too, and that's why he won't come here if he can help it. But we
can ask him. What is the 'Mistletoe Bough'? Is it a story about a
chest?"

"Haven't you heard it?" asked Blanche, surprised. "I believe I can
repeat it to you. Let's sit on the old box and pretend it is the one."

They scrambled up on to the chest, regardless of dust and cobwebs, and
Blanche began,--

"'The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,'"--

and went on through the ballad.

Marjory sat entranced, listening to the story of Lord Lovel and his
bride, and the fateful game of hide-and-seek, which ended in the lovely
lady being shut into the old oak chest, which none of the distracted
seekers thought of opening, and which did not disclose its grim secret
until many years afterwards, when at last it was opened.

"How _dreadful_!" exclaimed Marjory. "Fancy being shut up in a box like
this! I wonder if this one has a spring lock. I wish we knew what is
inside it."

They made up their minds to ask Dr. Hunter about