“Kneel,” commanded the hoarse voice of Skull, in which Connie could faintly distinguish the tone of Lark.

She knelt,—­an abject quivering neophyte.

“Hear the will of Skull and Crossbones,” chanted Crossbones in a shrill monotone.

Then Skull took up the strain once more.  “Skull and Crossbones, great in mercy and in condescension, has listened graciously to the prayer of Constance, the Seeker.  Hear the will of the Great Spirit!  If the Seeker will, for the length of two weeks, submit herself to the will of Skull and Crossbones, she shall be admitted into the Ancient and Honorable Order.  If the Seeker accepts this condition, she must bow herself to the ground three times, in token of submission.”

“There’s no ground here,” came a small faint voice from the kneeling Seeker.

“The floor, madam,” Skull explained sternly.  “If the Seeker accepts the condition,—­to submit herself absolutely to the will of Skull and Crossbones for two entire weeks,—­she shall bow herself three times.”

Constance hesitated.  It was so grandly expressed that she hardly understood what they wanted.  Carol came to her rescue.

“That means you’ve got to do everything Lark and I tell you for two weeks,” she said in her natural voice.

Then Constance bowed herself three times,—­although she lost her balance in the act, and Carol forgot her dignity and gave way to laughter, swiftly subdued, however.

“Arise and approach the altar,” she commanded in the shrill voice, which yet gave signs of laughter.

Constance arose and approached.

“Upon the altar, before the Eternal Light, you will find a small black bow, with a drop of human blood in the center.  This is the badge of your pledgedom.  You must wear it day and night, during the entire two weeks.  After that, if all is well; you shall be received into full membership.  If you break your pledge to the Order, it must be restored at once to Skull and Crossbones.  Take it, and pin it upon your breast.”

Constance did so,—­and her breast heaved with rapture and awe in mingling.

Then a horrible thing happened.  The flame of the “Eternal Light” was suddenly extinguished, and Carol exclaimed, “The ceremony is ended.  Return, damsel, to thine abode.”

A sound of scampering feet,—­and Constance knew that the Grand Officials had fled, and she was alone in the dreadful darkness.  She called after them pitifully, but she heard the slam of the kitchen door before she had even reached the ladder.

It was a sobbing and miserable neophyte who stumbled into the kitchen a few seconds later.  The twins were bending earnestly over their Latin grammars by the side of the kitchen fire, and did not raise their eyes as the Seeker burst into the room.  Constance sat down, and gasped and quivered for a while.  Then she looked down complacently at the little black bow with its smudge of red ink, and sighed contentedly.