hery! Come, we will go--"

Still Captain Plum hesitated.

"Who are you? Whom am I to follow?"

"A member of our holy Council of Twelve, Nat, and lord high treasurer of
His Majesty, King Strang!"

Before Captain Plum could recover from the surprise of this whispered
announcement the little old man had freed himself and was pattering
swiftly through the darkness of the next room. The master of the
_Typhoon_ followed close behind him. Outside the councilor hesitated for
a moment, as if debating which route to take, and then with a prodigious
wink at Captain Plum and a throatful of his inimitable chuckles, chose
the path down which his startled visitor of a short time before had
fled. For fifteen minutes this path led between thick black walls of
forest verdure. Obadiah Price kept always a few paces ahead of his
companion and spoke not a word. At the end of perhaps half a mile the
path entered into a large clearing on the farther side of which
Nathaniel caught the glimmer of a light. They passed close to this
light, which came from the window of a large square house built of logs,
and Captain Plum became suddenly conscious that the air was filled with
the redolent perfume of lilac. With half a dozen quick strides he
overtook the councilor and caught him by the arm.

"I smell lilac!" he exclaimed.

"Certainly, so do I," replied Obadiah Price. "We have very fine lilacs
on the island."

"And I smelled lilac back there," continued Nathaniel, still holding to
the old man's arm, and pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "I smelled
'em back there, when--"

"Ho, ho, ho!" chuckled the councilor softly. "I don't doubt it, Nat, I
don't doubt it. She is very fond of lilacs. She wears the flowers very
often."

He pulled himself away and Captain Plum could hear his queer chuckling
for some time after. Soon they entered the gloom of the woods again and
a little later came out into another clearing and Nathaniel knew that it
was St. James that lay at his feet. The lights of a few fishing boats
were twinkling in the harbor, but for the most part the town was dark.
Here and there a window shone like a spot of phosphorescent yellow in
the dismal gloom and the great beacon still burned steadily over the
home of the prophet.

"Ah, it is not time," whispered Obadiah. "It is still too early." He
drew his companion out of the path which they had followed and sat
himself down on a hummock a dozen yards away from it, inviting Nathaniel
b