"Not now, dearest. You must first have some coffee, which a faithful friend has provided for us." "Captain Pendleton?" eagerly inquired Sybil. "No, dear, our servant Joe. I do not expect to see Captain Pendleton until nightfall," added Lyon Berners, for he tried to anticipate and prevent any troublesome questions that Sybil might ask, as he wished to save her from needless additional pain as long as he possibly could. "And Joe is here with us?" inquired Sybil, cheerfully. "No, dear; he has returned home; but will come again to-night." "But what news did he bring?" "None. We will hear from Captain Pendleton to-night. Now you must have some coffee; and then I will tell you the 'Legend of the Haunted Chapel'; for that legend, Sybil, may well account for your vision, whether we look on it from my point of view or from yours--as illusion or reality," said Lyon Berners. "Or, stay," he added, reflectively; "it is too cold for you to sup in the open air. I will bring the things in here." "Well, let me go with you, to help to bring them in, at least," pleaded Sybil. "What! are you really afraid to stay here alone?" inquired Lyon, smiling, with an attempt at pleasantry. "No, indeed; but all smells mouldy inside this old church. At least it does since the sun set, and I would like to go out and get a breath of fresh air," replied Sybil, quite seriously. "Come, then," said Lyon. They went out together. The fire that had been built by Joe was now burnt down to embers; but the coffee-pot sat upon these embers, and the coffee was hot. Lyon Berners took it up, while Sybil loaded herself with crockery ware and cutlery. They had turned to go back to the church, when Sybil uttered a half-suppressed cry, and nearly dropped her burden. "What's the matter?" cried Mr. Berners. "Look!" exclaimed Sybil. "Where?" "At the east window." Mr. Berners raised his eyes just in time to see a weird young face, with wild black hair, and a bright red mantle, flash downward from the window, as if it had dropped to the floor. There was no dream now; not even an optical illusion. The reality of the vision was unquestionable. "This is most strange," exclaimed Mr. Berners. "It is the same face that bent over me, and woke me up," answered Sybil, with a shudder. "It is some one who is concealed in the church, and whom we shall be sure to discover, for there is but one exit, by the front door; and if she comes out of that, we shall see her; or if she remains in the building, we shall be sure to find her there. Since I saw the face drop from the window, I have carefully watched the door. Do you also watch it, my dear Sybil; so that the creature, whatever it is, may not pass us," said Mr. Berners, as he strode on rapidly towards the church, followed by his wife. They entered together, and looked eagerly around.