They reached Raby, and, in the great hall, the Squire collected his people and gave his orders. “Stop the bell. Broach a barrel of ale, and keep open house, so long as malt, and bacon, and cheese last. Turn neither body nor beast from my door this night, or may God shut His gate in your faces. Here are two guineas, George, to ring the church-bells, you and your fellows; but sup here first. Cans of hot water upstairs, for us. Lay supper, instead of dinner; brew a bowl of punch. Light all the Yule candles, as if it was Christmas eve. But first down on your knees, all of ye, whilst I thank God, who has baffled those Gabriel Hell-hounds for once, and saved a good man and a bonny lass from a dog's death.” They all went down on their knees, on the marble floor, directly, and the Squire uttered a few words of hearty thanksgiving, and there was scarcely a dry eye. Then the guests went upstairs, and had their hot baths, and changed their clothes, and came down to supper in the blazing room. Whilst they were at supper, the old servant who waited on them said something in a low voice to his master. He replied that he would speak to the man in the hall. As soon as he was gone, Miss Carden said in French, “Did you hear that?” “No.” “Well, I did. Now, mind your promise. We shall have to fib. You had better say nothing. Let me speak for you; ladies fib so much better than gentlemen.” Mr. Raby came back, and Grace waited to see if he would tell her. I don't think he intended to, at first: but he observed her eyes inquiring, and said, “One of the men, who was out after you tonight, has brought in word there is a light in Cairnhope old church.” “Do you believe it?” “No. But it is a curious thing; a fortnight ago (I think, I told you) a shepherd brought me the same story. He had seen the church on fire; at least he said so. But mark the paralyzing effect of superstition. My present informant no sooner saw this light--probably a reflection from one of the distant torches--than he coolly gave up searching for you. 'They are dead,' says he, 'and the spirits in the old church are saying mass for their souls. I'll go to supper.' So he came here to drink my ale, and tell his cock-and-bull story.” Grace put in her word with a sweet, candid face. “Sir, if there had been a light in that church, should we not have seen it?” “Why, of course you would: you must have been within a hundred yards of it in your wanderings. I never thought of that.” Grace breathed again. “However, we shall soon know. I have sent George and another man right up to the church to look. It is quite clear now.” Grace felt very anxious, but she forced on a careless air. “And suppose, after all, there should be a light?”