Octavia's superstitious fears by showing her our pranks" was the
whispered reply as Mrs. Snowdon's cheek paled, and she drew nearer
to Jasper.

"Who is there?" called Treherne in a commanding tone.

No answer, but a faint, cold breath of air seemed to sigh along the
arched roof and die away as the dark figure crossed the third streak
of moonlight. A strange awe fell upon them all, and no one spoke, but
stood watching for the appearance of the shape. Nearer and nearer it
came, with soundless steps, and as it reached the sixth window its
outlines were distinctly visible. A tall, wasted figure, all in black,
with a rosary hanging from the girdle, and a dark beard half
concealing the face.

"The Abbot's ghost, and very well got up," said Annon, trying to laugh
but failing decidedly, for again the cold breath swept over them,
causing a general shudder.

"Hush!" whispered Treherne, drawing Octavia to his side with a
protecting gesture.

Once more the phantom appeared and disappeared, and as they waited for
it to cross the last bar of light that lay between it and them, Mrs.
Snowdon stepped forward to the edge of the shadow in which they stood,
as if to confront the apparition alone. Out of the darkness it came, and
in the full radiance of the light it paused. Mrs. Snowdon, being
nearest, saw the face first, and uttering a faint cry dropped down upon
the stone floor, covering up her eyes. Nothing human ever wore a look
like that of the ghastly, hollow-eyed, pale-lipped countenance below the