no such peril here."

"Nay, not a man in the Castle will enter those vaults after sunset,
Sir Knight. The Albigenses, Sir Eustace!"

"I will take the risk alone," said Eustace. "Hand me a torch there!"

Gaston took another, and Thibault Sanchez, seeing them so resolute,
chose to be of the party. The torches shed their red glare over
the stone arches on which the Castle rested, and there was a chill
damp air and earthy smell, which made both Knight and Squire shudder
and start. No sooner had they entered than Thibault, trembling
exclaimed, in a tone of horror, "There! there! O blessed Lady,
protect us!"

"Where?" asked Eustace, scarce able to defend himself from an
impression of terror.

"'Tis gone--yet methought I saw it again.--There! look yonder, Sir
Knight--something white fluttering behind that column!"

Gaston crossed himself, and turned pale; but Eustace had settled
his nerves. "A truce with these vain follies, Master Seneschal,"
said he, sternly. "Those who know Le Borgne Basque cannot believe
his fears, either of saints or demons, to be other than assumed."

No ghost could have startled the Seneschal of the Chateau Norbelle
as much as this sobriquet. He fell back, and subsided into complete
silence, as he meditated whether it were best to confess the plot,
and throw himself upon Sir Eustace's mercy, or whether he could hope