in the garret of the roof
over the south aisle. Above them were enormous beams or rafters, and
below, a rough flooring. It was very dim and dusky, but about midway
shone a bright shaft of light evidently from some communication with the
interior of the nave. Towards this they directed their steps. It was a
difficult progress owing to the huge rafters that supported the roof. A
plank pathway about four feet above the floor had been laid across the
beams, and along this Ingred decided to venture.

She started, balancing herself with her arms, and kept her equilibrium,
though the plank was narrow and sprang as she walked. Verity, who had no
head for such achievements, preferred to scramble along the floor,
creeping under the rafters, in spite of the thick dust of years that lay
there. Eventually they both reached the radius of light, and found
another doorway leading down by a few steps into what was apparently a
cupboard. In the wall of the cupboard, however, were frets through which
the sunlight was streaming. Ingred applied an eye and gave a gasp of
satisfaction.

They were in the peep-hole on the wall of the nave, and could gaze
straight down into the church below. It was marvellous what an excellent
view they obtained. Nothing was hidden, not even the interiors of the
old-fashioned square pews that had lingered as a relic of the eighteenth
century. Anybody stationed in this spy-box would certainly be able to
keep guard over the congregation, and note any nefarious designs on the
pockets of the worshipers.

For the moment the church was empty, then footsteps were audible in the
porch. Was it the verger returning from his tea? The girls began to
flutter at the prospect of his wrath if he discovered them. It was no
cassock-clad verger that entered, however, but two young people, far too
much interested in each other to gaze upwards towards the frets of the
peep-hole. They thought they had the church to themselves, and walked
along conversing in a low tone. The particular shade of flaxen hair in
the masculine figure seemed familiar, and Ingred chuckled as she
recognized her eldest brother.

"Caught you, old boy! Caught you neatly!" she thought. "Who's the girl?
Oh, I know. It's one of the Bertrands--Queenie said they were at the
Desmonds' dance, so I suppose he met her there. What a priceless joke!
How I shall crow over him for this! They're actually going to sit down
in a pew and talk! Well, this is the limit!"

Qu