"Gentry lives in those houses," he volunteered. "They'se not open
to trippers."

"To what?" demanded Roger.

"Visitors, strangers like," explained the boy.

"I like that," said Roger, flushing indignantly.

"Hush, Roger," interposed his mother. "No offense was meant. What
are these chains? They seem very old."

"They were used long time ago to hang criminals. They do say they
put 'em there alive and left 'em to the corbies."

"Corbies? Oh, crows," interpreted Win. "Nice custom! Mother, look
at the heaps of rocks exposed by the tide."

"There's more this side," said their guide, turning a corner of
the rampart with Roger close at his heels. The rest were about to
follow when suddenly Mrs. Thayne gave an exclamation.

"Listen!" she said. "That must be a skylark."

From somewhere in the blue above fell a rain of happy music, so
liquid and so sweet that it scarcely seemed to come from any
earthly bird.

"Where is it?" asked Frances excitedly, peering into the air and
dropping on her knees the better to look up. Mrs. Thayne did the