il took a quick step forward. Before he could reach the door,
however, the girl had thrown her arms round his waist.

"You shall not close it," she cried.

"Who is it coming?" Cecil cried panting.

"God knows!" she answered. "They say the ghosts walk here."

He strove to loosen himself from her grasp, but he was powerless.
Nevertheless he got a little nearer to the door. Forrest came swiftly
across the room. Engleton struck at him with a chair, but the blow was
harmless.

"Stand aside, Cecil," Forrest said. "I'll close it."

"I'm hanged if you will," was the sudden reply.

Andrew de la Borne stepped out of the darkness and stood upright,
blinking and looking around in amazement.

CHAPTER XVII

Jeanne was sitting in the garden of the Caynsard farm. The excitement
of the last twenty-four hours had left her languid. For once she lay
and watched with idle, almost with indifferent eyes, the great stretch
of marshes riven with the incoming sea. She saw the fishing boats that
a few hours ago were dead inert things upon a bed of mud, come gliding
up the tortuous water-ways. On the horizon was the sea bank, with its
long line of poles, and the wires connecting the coastguard stations.
They stood like silent sentinels, clean and distinct against the empty
background. Jeanne sighed as she watched, and the thoughts came
crowding into her head. It was a restful country this, a country of
timeworn, mouldering grey churches, and of immemorial landmarks, a
country where everything seemed fixed and restful, everything except
the sea. A wave of self pity swept over her. After all she had lived a
very little time to know so much unhappiness. Worse than all, this
morning she was filled with apprehensions. She feared something. She
scarcely knew what, or from what direction it might come. The song of
the larks brought her no comfort. The familiar and beautiful places
upon which she looked pleased her no more. She was glad when Kate
Caynsard came out of the house and moved slowly towards her.

Kate, too, showed some of the signs of the recent excitement. There
were black lines under her wonderful eyes, and she walked hesitatingly,
without any of the firm splendid grace which made her movements a
delight to watch. Jeanne was afraid at first that she was going to turn
away, and called to her.

"Kate," she exclaimed, "I want you. Come here and talk to me."

Kate threw herself on to the ground by Jeanne's side.

"All the