idge and along the mossy border of
the moat. Presently she stood still and pointed down in silence.

For a while he saw nothing in the moat; then, suspended midway between
surface and bottom, motionless in the transparent water, a shadow, hanging
there, colourless, translucent--a phantom vaguely detached from the limpid
element through which it loomed.

L'Ombre lay very still in the silvery-grey depths where the glass of the
stream reflected the facade of that ancient house.

Around the angle of the moat crept a ripple; a rat appeared, swimming,
and, seeing them, dived. L'Ombre never stirred.

An involuntary shudder passed over Neeland, and he looked up abruptly with
the instinct of a creature suddenly trapped--but not yet quite realizing
it.

In the grey forest walling that silent place, in the monotonous sky
overhead, there seemed something indefinitely menacing; a menace, too, in
the intense stillness; and, in the twisted, uplifted limbs of every giant
tree, a subtle and suspended threat.

He said tritely and with an effort: "For everything there are natural
causes. These may always be discovered with ingenuity and persistence....
Shall we examine your clocks, Madame?"

"Yes.... Will your General be annoyed because I have asked that an officer
be sent here? Tell me truthfully, are _you_ annoyed?"

"No, indeed," he insisted, striving to smile away the inexplicable sense
of depression which was creeping over him.

He looked down again at the grey wraith in the water, then, as they turned
and walked slowly back across the bridge together, he said, suddenly:

"_Something_ is wrong somewhere in Finistere. That is evident to me. There
have been too many rumours from too many sources. By sea and land they
come--rumours of things half seen, half heard--glimpses of enemy aircraft,
sea-craft. Yet their presence would appear to be an impossibility in the
light of the military intelligence which we possess.

"But we have investigated every rumour; although I, personally, know of no
report which has been confirmed. Nevertheless, these rumours persist; they
come thicker and faster day by day. But this--" He hesitated, then
smiled--"this seems rather different----"

"I know. I realize that I have invited ridicule----"

"Countess----"

"You are too considerate to say so.... And perhaps I have become
nervous--imagining things. It might easily be so. Perhaps it is the
sadness of the past year--the strangeness of it, an