shell open to the sky. It had once been an imposing structure, costing
the Jesuits forty thousand piasters. The uneven stone floor was also
broken, showing gaps into vaults beneath; fearful spots to be avoided,
which the custom of darkness soon revealed to all eyes. Partitions yet
standing held stained and ghastly smears of rotted plaster.

The river's gurgle and rush could be distinctly heard here, while the
company around the bonfire were lost in distance.

Angélique had given her arm to Maria Jones in the flight down the road;
but when they entered the college Maria slipped away from her. A blacker
spot in an angle of the walls and a smothered cough hinted to the
care-taker where the invalid girl might be found, but where she also
wished to be let alone.

Now a sob rising to a scream, as if the old building had found voice and
protested against invasion, caused a recoil of the invaders. Girls
brought up in neighborly relations with the wilderness, however, could
be only a moment terrified by the screech-owl. But at no previous time
in its history, not even when it was captured as a fort, had the Jesuit
College inclosed such a cluster of wildly beating hearts. Had light been
turned on the group, it would have shown every girl shaking her hand at
every other girl and hissing, "S--s--sh!"

"Girls, be still."

"Girls, do be still."

"Girls, if you won't be still, somebody will come."