as to whether it would be wise, and as to whether
it would not lead to certain discovery in the morning."

"Of course we could take it in turns to sit up and watch," suggested
Henri, yawning widely as he spoke; "but then, we are all of us dead
tired, and the chances are that anyone who attempted to keep awake
would be overpowered by drowsiness. It looks to me as though it would
be far better for us to clear up the mess we have made and to retire
into the loft; that is to say, if there is one. And I've another
suggestion to offer: it may be that to-morrow we shall find our exit
from the farm cut off, or we may find that we have to keep away from
all dwellings as we cross country; that points to the need of
replenishing the commissariat at this stage, particularly as we know
that there is food almost within a stone's throw of us."

The big, beefy, ruddy, and smiling face of Stuart was turned upon him
promptly.

"My boy," he exclaimed, smacking Henri heavily on the shoulder, "my
boy, didn't I say that you were deserving of the highest honours, and
here is another reason for giving you rewards. The idea of food for
to-morrow had escaped my notice altogether, and I would say that both
Jules and I were so satisfied with what we have had that we didn't give
a thought to it. But it's just plain common sense--the common sense
which you seem to have got a store of, Henri--which should prepare us
to look to to-morrow, to make provision for the future, particularly
when it can be done so easily. You get off, Henri, but take care that
that fellow with the voice doesn't spot you. Jules and I will search
round in the buildings for a loft, and then we'll return to this room
and wait for you."

Separating at the door of the room, and leaving a goodly portion of
their clothing still hanging in the warmth of the fire, the three
parted, Jules and Stuart clambering up the staircase, which ascended
again after it had passed the landing at the door of the room they had
just vacated, while Henri slid to the floor below, and, marching into
the yard, crossed to the kitchen doorway. Pausing there for a while,
he listened for the notes of the organ, and presently heard them and
the sound of a woman singing, a coarse, guttural, bucolic voice, very
different from the other. As for the kitchen, the fire still flickered
on the hearth, while the place was untenanted, and once more Henri,
emboldened by the success of his previous visit, lit