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And evening lives o'er all serene and still, Such was the conversation of Madame de Menon; and the pleasant gaiety of the pavilion seemed peculiarly to adapt it for the scene of social delights. On the evening of a very sultry day, having supped in their favorite spot, the coolness of the hour, and the beauty of the night, tempted this happy party to remain there later than usual. Returning home, they were surprised by the appearance of a light through the broken window-shutters of an apartment, belonging to a division of the castle which had for many years been shut up. They stopped to observe it, when it suddenly disappeared, and was seen no more. Madame de Menon, disturbed at this phaenomenon, hastened into the castle, with a view of enquiring into the cause of it, when she was met in the north hall by Vincent. She related to him what she had seen, and ordered an immediate search to be made for the keys of those apartments. She apprehended that some person had penetrated that part of the edifice with an intention of plunder; and, disdaining a paltry fear where her duty was concerned, she summoned the servants of the castle, with an intention of accompanying them thither. Vincent smiled at her apprehensions, and imputed what she had seen to an illusion, which the solemnity of the hour had impressed upon her fancy. Madame, however, persevered in her purpose; and, after along and repeated search, a massey key, covered with rust, was produced. She then proceeded to the southern side of the edifice, accompanied by Vincent, and followed by the servants, who were agitated with impatient wonder. The key was applied to an iron gate, which opened into a court that separated this division from the other parts of the castle. They entered this court, which was overgrown with grass and weeds, and ascended some steps that led to a large door, which they vainly endeavoured to open. All the different keys of the castle were applied to the lock, without effect, and they were at length compelled to quit the place, without having either satisfied their curiosity, or quieted their fears. Everything, however, was still, and the light did not reappear. Madame concealed her apprehensions, and the family retired to rest. “Well, Bob,” remarked Mr. Hazard when the tale was done, “you certainly had a better time here than you would have had if you had gone to Russia with me!”.

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CHAPTER XIII “The Greasers making a stand, I reckon,” was Ted Hoyt’s comment. “Probably a regular battle.” “Jeremias the wood-cutter is ill in bed, too,” he said suddenly. Bob shook the sleep out of his eyes and hustled into his clothes. When he came downstairs with Jerry he found that Mr. Whitney had already finished his breakfast and had gone out. So he and Jerry had theirs. During the meal Bob tried again to draw his new comrade out, but the same unwillingness to talk possessed Jerry. Bob rather wondered what was the matter. He had not been used to meeting with such reserve. He remembered also that during the conversation on the porch the night before Jerry had spoken hardly a word but sat in his chair motionless. At last, giving it up as a bad job, he finished his meal in silence. Steve Whitney met them in the lobby..