“I locked the door of my room, then from under the bed—­where I had hidden them earlier in the evening—­I drew out several fine pieces of plate armor, which I had removed from the armory.  There was also a shirt of chain mail, with a sort of quilted hood of mail to go over the head.

“I buckled on the plate armor, and found it extraordinarily uncomfortable, and over all I drew on the chain mail.  I know nothing about armor, but from what I have learned since, I must have put on parts of two suits.  Anyway, I felt beastly, clamped and clumsy and unable to move my arms and legs naturally.  But I knew that the thing I was thinking of doing called for some sort of protection for my body.  Over the armor I pulled on my dressing gown and shoved my revolver into one of the side pockets—­and my repeating flash-light into the other.  My dark lantern I carried in my hand.

“As soon as I was ready I went out into the passage and listened.  I had been some considerable time making my preparations and I found that now the big hall and staircase were in darkness and all the house seemed quiet.  I stepped back and closed and locked my door.  Then, very slowly and silently I went downstairs to the hall and turned into the passage that led to the Chapel.

“I reached the door and tried my key.  It fitted perfectly and a moment later I was in the Chapel, with the door locked behind me, and all about me the utter dree silence of the place, with just the faint showings of the outlines of the stained, leaded windows, making the darkness and lonesomeness almost the more apparent.

“Now it would be silly to say I did not feel queer.  I felt very queer indeed.  You just try, any of you, to imagine yourself standing there in the dark silence and remembering not only the legend that was attached to the place, but what had really happened to the old butler only a little while gone, I can tell you, as I stood there, I could believe that something invisible was coming toward me in the air of the Chapel.  Yet, I had got to go through with the business, and I just took hold of my little bit of courage and set to work.

“First of all I switched on my light, then I began a careful tour of the place; examining every corner and nook.  I found nothing unusual.  At the chancel gate I held up my lamp and flashed the light at the dagger.  It hung there, right enough, above the altar, but I remember thinking of the word ‘demure,’ as I looked at it.  However, I pushed the thought away, for what I was doing needed no addition of uncomfortable thoughts.

“I completed the tour of the place, with a constantly growing awareness of its utter chill and unkind desolation—­an atmosphere of cold dismalness seemed to be everywhere, and the quiet was abominable.

“At the conclusion of my search I walked across to where I had left my camera focused upon the chancel.  From the satchel that I had put beneath the tripod I took out a dark slide and inserted it in the camera, drawing the shutter.  After that I uncapped the lens, pulled out my flashlight apparatus, and pressed the trigger.  There was an intense, brilliant flash, that made the whole of the interior of the Chapel jump into sight, and disappear as quickly.  Then, in the light from my lantern, I inserted the shutter into the slide, and reversed the slide, so as to have a fresh plate ready to expose at any time.