"Nay, a brave room," returned the man. "But yet"—lowering his voice—"they call it haunted."
"Haunted?" repeated Dick, with a chill. "I have not heard of it. Nay, then, and by whom?"
The messenger looked about him; and then, in a low whisper, "By the sacrist of St. John's," he said. "They had him there to sleep one night, and in the morning—whew!—he was gone. The devil had taken him, they said; the more betoken, he had drunk late the night before."
Dick followed the man with black forebodings.
CHAPTER III.
THE ROOM OVER THE CHAPEL.
From the battlements nothing further was observed. The sun journeyed westward, and at last went down; but to the eyes of all these eager sentinels, no living thing appeared in the neighbourhood of Tunstall House.
When the night was at length fairly come, Throgmorton was led to a room overlooking an angle of the moat. Thence he was lowered with every precaution; the ripple of his swimming was audible for a brief period; then a black figure was observed to land by the branches of a willow and crawl away among the grass. For some half-hour Sir Daniel and Hatch stood eagerly
