y and in darkness. But a second afterwards the door from the hall
was opened, and Joan stood in the doorway, the light shimmering upon her
satin cloak and the silver embroidery of her frock. She cast an anxious
look behind her and up the staircase. It seemed as if some movement at
the angle made by the stairs and the gallery caught her eye, for she
stepped back for a clearer view, and listened with a peculiar
intentness. She saw nothing, however, and heard nothing. She entered the
library swiftly and closed the door behind her, so that the room fell
once more upon darkness save for a thread of gold at the bottom of the
other door behind which the men of the party were still sitting over
their wine. She crossed the room towards the window, stepping cautiously
to avoid the furniture. She was quite invisible. But for a tiny rustle
of the lace flounces on her dress one would have sworn the room was
empty. But when she was half-way across a sudden burst of laughter from
the dining-room brought her to a stop with her hand upon her heart and a
little sob not altogether stifled in her throat. It meant so much to her
that the desperate adventure of this night should be carried through! If
all went well, as it must--oh, as it surely must!--by midnight she would
be free of her terrors and distress.

The laughter in the dining room died down. Joan stole forward again. She
drew away the heavy curtains from the long window, and the moonlight,
clear and bright like silver, poured into the room and clothed her in
its soft radiance. She drew back the bolts at the top and bottom of the
glass door and turned the key in the lock. She touched the glass and the
door swung open upon the garden, easily, noiselessly. She drew it close
again and leaving it so, raised her hands to the curtains at the side.
As she began carefully to draw them together, so that the rings should
not rattle on the pole, the door from the hall was softly and quickly
opened, and the switch of the electric lights by the side of the door
pressed down. The room leapt into light.

Joan swung round, her face grown white, her eyes burning with fire. She
saw only Jenny Prask.

"I hope I don't intrude, miss," said Jenny respectfully. "I came to find
a book."

The blood flowed back into Joan's cheeks.

"Certainly, Jenny, take what you like," said Joan, and she draped the
curtains across the window.

"Thank you, miss."

Jenny chose a book from the case upon the table and