“They are not up yet,” said Adela, glancing over her shoulder. “They have been out all night, Hilary.”
“Oh, then, I’m in a regular smuggler’s den, I suppose. What place is this I am in?”
“The old chapel, Hilary. They say it’s haunted, and for the moment, when I saw you, I was frightened.”
“What! are there ghosts here?” said Hilary, glancing inside.
“Yes, they say one walks there sometimes.”
“I only wish he had walked here last night, and left the door open,” said Hilary. “But I say, Addy, how funny that we should meet again like this.”
“Yes, isn’t it, Hilary? And yet,” said the girl thoughtfully, “it is not funny, but sad, for the days are not so happy now as they were when we played together years ago.”
“And we’ve both grown so,” said Hilary thoughtfully. “But look here,” he exclaimed, as a sudden thought struck him. “I want to see somebody. I’m not going to be made a prisoner here in my own country. I’m not cross with you, Addy, but I must have this set right. Where is Sir Henry?”
As he asked the question a distant voice was heard calling the young girl’s name, and she turned, ran, and was out of sight in an instant.