(Continued from page 31.)

CHAPTER II.

Estelle could scarcely believe her eyes at the sight of Thomas. Her cry made Marjorie and Georgie look round. Thomas there! How was it she had not seen him before? How was it he had not heard their calls to him? Had Alan had his dangerous climb for nothing?

With a sudden rush of anger, Marjorie was about to call to Thomas, when another amazing event stopped her. Alan appeared at the entrance of the cave, and signalling rapidly to her, put his fingers to his lips.

Puzzled and uncertain what he wanted her to do, she remained sitting near the sand castle, telling Georgie to be quiet till Alan could explain. Estelle meanwhile had dropped her stones, and, throwing herself down by her cousin, wanted to know what Alan was doing.

'He will be here in a second,' said Marjorie, trying not to speak impatiently in her anxiety, 'but he evidently does not wish us to look as if we saw him. Let us go on playing as if nothing had happened.'

'But why mayn't we meet Alan?' demanded Georgie, stooping that he might see under his sister's great hat.

'He doesn't want us to. I think he does not like Thomas to know he has not been with us all the time. But it is all guessing, really, for I don't know more than you do,' she added, as she saw both children were about to ply her with questions.

Meantime, Alan, having caught the spirit of the game over which the others were interested, took up the largest stones he could find, and came to join the party. It was more than likely that Thomas would imagine he had been helping with the castle the whole time.

'Well?' said Marjorie, looking up, and at the same time pointing to where she desired the stones to be placed.

They all began to help in arranging them while Alan spoke in low tones of his adventure.

'It is really true, Marjorie, that something is up. I don't understand it yet, and even if I did this is no place to tell you about what I heard. Just keep quiet about my climb, all of you. Do you hear, Georgie?' For his little brother was not good at keeping secrets, and Alan thought this a serious matter.

'Of course I do. I am not deaf.'

'Well, you are not to say a word to anybody, not even to Mother.'

'How did you get down?' asked Estelle, in a whisper.

'On my feet, having no wings,' he laughed. 'How have you all got on? This is a splendid castle. Let us fill the moat with water.'

Marjorie looked up in surprise. A look in Alan's eyes made her glance round, and she saw that Thomas was coming towards them over the sands, to tell them it was time to be going. She saw, too, that Alan did not wish to speak of his climb up the cliff in Thomas's presence.

Estelle and Georgie were the only talkative ones on their return to the boat. Marjorie was fully occupied with the difficulties of steering, and Alan and Thomas in pulling against the incoming tide. Georgie had crammed his pockets with shells, and now brought them out to show Estelle that there were real, live creatures in some of the closed ones. The idea horrified her, and she tried to get him to throw them into the sea.

'No, certainly not!' cried Georgie, with a teasing laugh. 'I shall ask Miss Leigh if we can't have them for tea.'

'To eat?' cried Estelle, shrinking with horror, and springing away from the dirty-looking black shells.

Her violent jump made the boat give a heavy lurch, and she nearly fell overboard.

'Hullo!' cried Alan, while Marjorie pulled her back to her seat, begging her to keep still.

'What's the matter? asked Georgie with a laugh, his eyes dancing with delight at having startled her. 'Why, they are only mussels. Lots of people eat them, and periwinkles too. You shall taste them yourself.'

'Oh, Georgie, do throw them into the sea! They are horrid!' she exclaimed, shuddering. 'I don't like this bay, or the dark cruel rocks, or the waiting for Thomas, with the tide coming in to drown us if he is late! And now those dirty shells—alive and horrid—which you want to eat!'

Georgie laughed with such shouts of merriment that Alan told him to shut up; he would have the boat over if he kicked about in that manner. But his laugh was so infectious that Estelle was forced into joining, especially when, to please her, he threw the shells into the waves as they landed.

The wood, dignified by the name of the Wilderness, led up to the rear of the Moat House. It was of great extent, reaching to the coastguard path on the cliffs, and stretching far across the coast-line. In the midst of it was the old ruined summer-house, in which the children delighted. It was not in the least like a summer-house, nor could anybody give a reason for its name. It was, in fact, all that remained of the ancient rampart which had once surrounded the Moat House. It was fifteen feet high, and was probably the last of many such three-cornered towers. Now the flanking walls had either disappeared altogether, or they had become little moss-covered mounds of stone. Trees and bushwood hid it from view on one side; broken steps went up a second, which led more or less perilously to the top, where a table, some rough wooden seats, and a rustic chair or two showed that it was used by the children, if not by their elders. On the third side, where the ivy had grown thick with age, and stood out from the wall like a tree, was a heavy oak door, clamped with iron and studded with large nails. In front of this spread a soft carpet of ground ivy and moss, just now starred with celandines and morning glories, while the bright, fresh green of the slender birches drooped over it, and cast trembling shadows.

The door had a special attraction for the children. They would often stand and gaze at it, making up long stories of what might be found inside. Each in turn had tried to induce the old gardener, Peet, to open it, but as yet no persuasions or arguments had had any effect upon him. He refused to let them have even one peep.

Great was Estelle's surprise, then, when passing it on their return from the boat, to find it open. She rubbed her eyes, and caught hold of Alan in her excitement, pointing with her other hand towards the little slit. There was an instant rush for the ruin. Alan, taking the lead, made the first attempt to push the door open a little wider, and catch a glimpse of what lay behind it, but he failed. The interior was too dark, and the door too heavy to move without help. Determined not to give in, however, he called the others to his assistance, but to their astonishment, it took the combined strength of the party to push it wide enough to gain even a glimpse of what was inside. It was amazingly weighty; but when at last it did move, it swung back quickly and unexpectedly, nearly knocking the children over. Struggling to their feet again, they gazed at each other in awe, delight, and wonder, till Alan, overcoming his amazement, went forward to inspect their discovery, the others following close at his heels.

Thomas had been left behind with the boat, and would not be up till they had had time to examine the inside to their hearts' content. That is what Alan counted upon, at all events. But he had reckoned without his host.

'I don't think there is much to see,' said Marjorie scornfully. 'It is very dark and dirty, and oh, do look at the snails!'

'And the mice!' cried Georgie, pointing to one scurrying off under their very noses.

'And the bats!' exclaimed Estelle, with a shudder 'do you see them up there? I wonder if they will come down and fasten in our hair if we go inside and look about?'

'Why should they?' asked Alan, lighting a match he had found in his pocket. 'They are asleep now, and won't wake at anything we do. Now come in, and I will have the lantern lighted in a jiffy. I saw one just close by.'

'I wonder what Aunt Betty or Father would say——,' began Marjorie, but Alan cut her short.

'You are not going to stop outside, surely!' he exclaimed, with surprised indignation. 'We shall never get such a chance again, and there can be no possible harm in it while I am here to take care of you.'

'Auntie would not like it,' said Estelle. 'She particularly told me I wasn't to go in at any time, and I don't think I ought.'

'Aunt Betty trusted us,' added Marjorie, decidedly. 'We can look, but not go in.'

'What rot!' returned Alan, wilfully, not in the best of humours. He had succeeded in lighting the lantern, and now began to insist on Estelle coming with him. 'There is no trust in a locked door,' he said. 'At least the trust is in the door keeping us out; not in us who can't get in. This is a chance in a thousand.'

'I wonder if I might?' said Estelle, looking at Marjorie.

It was a great temptation. It did seem such a pity to lose this opportunity; a chance, as Alan said, which might never occur again: though the children knew they were doing wrong, curiosity began to overcome them.

'I don't think it would be right,' answered Marjorie, with decision. 'We can see all we want from here.'

'I'm sure we can't,' said George, excitedly. 'Look at that dark corner. We don't know what is in there, but there is something, I'm sure.'

'Well, Marjorie,' said Alan, 'if you don't want to come in, don't. But you need not spoil sport for all the rest of us. You and I will go in, Estelle, and Marjorie can keep guard outside.'

'I wish I knew if I might!' cried Estelle, clasping her hands on the top of her head, and dancing up and down in despair. I really and truly believe Auntie only meant I was not to go in alone. Don't you think so, Marjorie?'

'No, I don't,' returned her cousin, quietly.

'What on earth does it matter?' cried Alan, impatiently. 'We are losing all our time and we shall have Peet or somebody down upon us in a minute. Come on, Estelle.'

But love for Aunt Betty still acted as a restraint, and though she put her foot on the threshold, she did not step over.

'I would like to—I would like to,' she exclaimed, torn between her conscience and her wishes, 'if—— '

She broke off, for Georgie was screaming in terror, 'The door—the door! Look at the door!'

(Continued on page 47.)