(Janet kept the papers, or I should not be able to do that.) This is the one which was begun by Hester, who liked to be serious and mysterious in her work, and was almost vexed when others turned it to nonsense.

She called it "The Secret of the Castle," and began it like this: "It was a dark and gloomy night in the year 1135, when the young Lord Almeric reached his impressive and ancestral home.

Nothing could be heard but the sighing of the wind in the turrets and the moaning of Boris, the great wolfhound.

Lord Almeric had ridden far, and was tired, and the gloominess of his ancestral home weighed on his spirits, which were naturally buoyant and high.

Flinging himself from his gaily comparisoned horse, and tossing the rein with a muttered, 'Here, varlet!' to the waiting groom, he opened the massive doors and entered the hall.