ngeons with
a candle. It was deliciously creepy down there; you could still see the
iron stanchions by which the wretched prisoners had been chained to the
wall, and the little hole through which their daily portions of food had
been handed in to them, and could imagine, if you were fond of recalling
the past, how from their beds of straw they would watch the light fading
from the tiny barred window, and shiver as they heard the rats gnawing
at the stout oak door, or felt a toad crawl over their feet in the murky
darkness. Some of the grown-ups had been busy marking out bounds in the
courtyard, and soon enlisted every one in an exciting game of prisoner's
base. Mr. Chester and the curate made the most successful captains,
directing the proceedings with great spirit, and sometimes by a bold
dash rescuing the more important of their prisoners, and Bertie Rokeby
covered himself with glory by quietly walking to the "prison" while the
opposite side was occupied in a hardly-contested struggle, and
unsuspectedly freeing all the captives one by one. It was warm work,
however, on a hot August day, and after a time the Wrights, never good
runners, subsided, panting, on to a piece of ruined wall, and even the
enthusiastic curate, who had pulled off his coat, and was prosecuting
the game in his shirt sleeves, began to show signs of flagging zeal.

"I'm done up!" cried Mr. Chester at last, flinging himself under the
shade of a small elder tree near the banqueting-hall. "I haven't a leg
left to stand on, and I'm hoarse with shouting orders. You'd better give
in, and do something quiet. I don't want to see another boy or girl for
the space of the next half-hour, so scoot, all of you, anywhere, and
leave Mr. Browne and myself to enjoy a smoke in peace."

CHAPTER X.

WILD MAIDENHAIR.

"On our other side is the straight-up rock,
And a path is kept 'twixt the gorge and it
By boulder stones, where lichens mock
The marks on a moth, and small ferns fit
Their teeth to the polished block."

Somewhat hot and tired with their exertions, the children dispersed in
small groups to lounge about or amuse themselves in any way they
happened to feel inclined. As there was still plenty of time before
the coaches returned at seven o'clock, Belle and Isobel, together with
four of the Rokebys, decided to stroll up the Scar, from the top of
which they expected to obtain a very good view of the distant
moorland, togethe