“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.