Frayne
seemed to rouse, and Mrs. Gregg had come with Mrs. Wilkins, and these
two had relieved the doctor of the care of the cook, now talking
volubly; and, partly through her revelations, but mainly through the
more coherent statements of Mrs. Dade, were the facts made public.
Margaret, the cook, had a room to herself on the ground floor adjoining
her kitchen. Belle, the maid, had been given the second floor back, in
order to be near to her young mistress. Bitzer, the Blakes'
man-of-all-work,--like McGann, a discharged soldier,--slept in the
basement at the back of the house, and there was he found, blinking,
bewildered and only with difficulty aroused from stupor by a wrathful
sergeant. The cook's story, in brief, was that she was awakened by Mrs.
Blake's voice at her door and, thinking Belle was sick, she jumped up
and found Mrs. Blake in her wrapper, asking was she, Margaret, up stairs
a moment before. Then Mrs. Blake, with her candle, went into the dining
room, and out jumped a man in his stocking feet from the captain's den
across the hall, and knocked over Mrs. Blake and the light, and made for
her, the cook; whereat she screamed and slammed her door in his face,
and that was really all she knew about it.

But Mrs. Blake knew more. Awakened by some strange consciousness of
stealthy movement about the house, she called Belle by name, thinking
possibly the girl might be ill and seeking medicine. There was sound of
more movement, but no reply. Mrs. Blake's girlhood had been spent on the
frontier. She was a stranger to fear. She arose; struck a light and,
seeing no one in her room or the guest chamber and hallway, hastened to
the third room, and was surprised to find Belle apparently quietly
sleeping. Then she decided to look about the house and, first, went down
and roused the cook. As she was coming out of the dining room, a man
leaped past her in the hall, hurling her to one side and dashing out the
light. Her back was toward him, for he came from Gerald's own premises
known as the den. In that den, directly opposite, was one of her
revolvers, loaded. She found it, even in the darkness and, hurrying
forth again, intending to chase the intruder and alarm the sentry at the
rear, encountered either the same or a second man close to the back
door, a man who sprang past her like a panther and darted down the
steps at the back of the house, followed by two shots from her Smith &
Wesson. One of these men wore a soldier's