These comments were interrupted by a man, with a white face, who burst into the assembly crying, “Will ye believe me now?  Cairnhope old church is all afire!”

CHAPTER XIV.

“Ay, Squire,” said Abel Eaves, for he was the bearer of this strange news, “ye wouldn’t believe me, now come and see for yourself.”

This announcement set all staring; and George the blacksmith did but utter the general sentiment when, suddenly dropping his assumed character of King George, he said, “Bless us and save us!  True Christmas Eve; and Cairnhope old church alight!”

Then there was a furious buzz of tongues, and, in the midst of it Mr. Raby disappeared, and the sword-dancers returned to the kitchen, talking over this strange matter as they went.

Grace retired to the drawing-room followed by Coventry.

She sat silent some time, and he watched her keenly.

“I wonder what has become of Mr. Raby?”

Mr. Coventry did not know.

“I hope he is not going out.”

“I should think not, it is a very cold night; clear, but frosty.”

“Surely he would never go to see.”

“Shall I inquire?”

“No; but that might put it into his head.  But I wish I knew where he was.”

Presently a servant brought the tea in.

Miss Carden inquired after Mr. Raby.

“He is gone out, miss; but he won’t be long, I was to tell you.”

Grace felt terribly uneasy and restless! rang the bell and asked for Jael Dence.  The reply was that she had not been to the hall that day.

But, soon afterward, Jael came up from the village, and went into the kitchen of Raby.  There she heard news, which soon took her into the drawing-room.

“Oh, miss,” said she, “do you know where the squire is?”

“Gone to the church?” asked Grace, trembling.

“Ay, and all the sword-dancers at his back.”  And she stood there and wrung her hands with dismay.

The ancients had a proverb, “Better is an army of stags with a lion for their leader, than an army of lions with a stag for their leader.”  The Cairnhope sword-dancers, though stout fellows and strong against a mortal foe, were but stags against the supernatural; yet, led by Guy Raby, they advanced upon the old church with a pretty bold front, only they kept twenty yards in their leader’s rear.  The order was to march in dead silence.

At the last turn in the road their leader suddenly halted, and, kneeling on one knee, waved to his men to keep quiet:  he had seen several dark figures busy about the porch.

After many minutes of thrilling, yet chilling, expectation, he rose and told his men, in a whisper, to follow him again.

The pace was now expedited greatly, and still Mr. Raby, with his double-barreled gun in his hand, maintained a lead of some yards and his men followed as noiselessly as they could, and made for the church:  sure enough it was lighted inside.