"You have lost trace and scent of Lyon! Oh, Nelly! Nelly! what shall we do? Venture back boldly to Black Hall? Run right in the teeth of the law officers, and be snapped up by them?" sighed Sybil.

Nelly understood "a horror in the words, if not the words," and howled dismally.

Just at that moment a halting step was heard approaching, and a sad voice sighing:

"I sorter can't give her up! No, I can't! Ef she did bite me, it wa'n't outen malice to me, but outen dewotion to the mistess--on'y to make me drap her down, so she could go back to dis vault and wait for her mistess, which I do expect she have starved to death by dis time! But I'll see. Nelly. Nelly!"

Sybil's heart leaped with joy at recognizing the voice of her faithful servant Joe. And Nelly jumped forward with a cry of delight to meet him.

"So you is here yet in dis supernumerary speer. Thank my Marster in Heaven for dat!" exclaimed Joe, stooping painfully, while he leaned upon his crutch, to lift the little dog to his bosom. "But who dat young o'man, Nelly?" continued Joe, whose eyesight was none of the best, pausing abruptly and staring at Sybil, who was completely disguised by the large India shawl and the red merino gown, both of which were entirely opposite to her usual style of dress.

Joe hobbled towards the supposed stranger cautiously.

"Don't you know me, dear old Joe?" inquired Sybil, dropping the shawl from her head and rising to her feet.

"_Ah-h-h-ah!_" yelled Joe in a prolonged howl of horror at what he took to be a ghost!

And then, as he could not run away, he dropped dog and crutch, fell flat upon his face and roared for mercy.

Sybil and her little dog both tried to soothe and rea.s.sure him--Sybil by repeating to him over and over again that she was alive and well, and that there was nothing whatever to fear at that moment; and little Nelly, by running around him and trying to poke her nose under his face to find a place to kiss or to lick.

But Joe for a time was perfectly inaccessible to reason; and Sybil, in discouragement, left him to recover himself alone, while she went and sat down at some distance to wait the issue of the event.

After a little while Joe slowly lifted up his head, and cautiously glanced around, whispering:

"Is she gone?"

"No," answered Sybil, sharply; "I am not gone! I am sitting here waiting for you to come to your senses!"

Joe, who after the first glimpse had not dared to look upon the ghost, now ventured from this safe distance to steal a glance. The glance grew into a gaze, and then he spoke:

"Miss Sybil--"

"Well, Joe?"

"Is it you?"

"Yes, it is I."

"But is you alibe?"

"Yes, I'm alive."

"Is you sure?"

"I am hungry and mad! That should make me sure."

"--Mad 'long o' me, Miss Sybil?"

"Yes; mad with you for being such a fool!"

"But I thought you was a ghostess!"

"Bosh! you haven't as much sense as little Nelly!" exclaimed Sybil, affecting more anger than she really felt.

"But an't you dead?" mysteriously inquired Joe, gazing at the pale face of his mistress, now very pale indeed through all that she had suffered.

"An't you really dead, Miss Sybil?"

"Not much, Joe."

"But wan't you robbed and murdered by them riporate willains?"

"Neither the one nor the other, Joe! I am safe and sound, and have my money and jewels still about me."

"But--wan't you reducted?"

"I was _ab_ducted, Joe; but not harmed! It is a long story, Joe. I cannot tell it now, because I want to know about my husband. Is he safe?"

"Yes, Miss Sybil, he's all right now! only grieving arter you! 'cause everybody beliebes as you perished in the blowing up of the old chapel.

Lord! where was you all the time? Did Nelly find you?"

"Yes, Nelly found me; but--"

"Lord! the sense of that little thing!"

"--But tell me about my husband! Where is he!"

"He is at Capping Pendulum's, a doing very well now."

"Doing very well _now_! That means he has been doing badly lately! Has he been ill?" exclaimed Sybil, in breathless anxiety.

"No, Miss Sybil; but he was in the old Haunted Chapel when de debbil blowed it up."

"Oh, good heavens!" cried Sybil, clasping her hands, and unable to speak another word.

"Don't be scared! he wasn't hurt not to speak of; only stunned and bruised a bit. And he's all right now. On'y grievin' of hisse'f to death, which is perfec'ly nateral, you see. Goodness knows as I myse'f hasn't eat a meal's wittels, nor likewise sleeped a wink o' sleep, since gone you's been! And oh! how I thank my Heavenly Marster as has 'stored you to us once more alive and well!" cried Joe, hobbling towards Sybil, sinking at her feet, and giving way to his feelings in a burst of sobs and tears.

Sybil raised him up, and then noticed for the first time how lame he was.

"It's nothin' to speak on, Miss Sybil. On'y a sprained ankle. I can get on well enough with a crutch. And here I am as willin' and _able_ to sarve you as ever," said the poor fellow, earnestly.

"Thanks, dear Joe! I want you, if you can, to go with me to my husband immediately."

"But, Miss Sybil, honey, you look so pale and weak and wore out. Better stay here while I go and get a conweyance."

"No, no, no, Joe! It would take you too long, and I cannot wait. I can walk," said Sybil, impatiently rising and drawing the shawl up over her head, for she had no hat or bonnet.

"Name o' de Lord, then come on, honey," replied Joe, who knew it would be useless to oppose his mistress when she was fully bent on any purpose.