t did he say to you? What did he do? Is he coming back?"

She was becoming more disturbed and nervous, so Peter brought a chair
and made her sit in it.

"No. He's not coming back--not for a month or more," he replied
reassuringly. "But if I'm to help you, I've got to know something more
about him, and for Beth's sake you've got to help me." And then quietly,
"Mrs. Bergen, was this man who came to the kitchen door, Ben Cameron,
Beth's father?"

"My God!" said the housekeeper faintly, putting her face in her hands.

"Won't you tell me just what happened?" Peter asked.

"I--I'm scared, Mr. Nichols," she groaned. "The whole thing has been too
much for me--knowin' how scared Mr. McGuire is too. I can't understand,
I can't even--think--no more."

"Let me do your thinking for you. Tell me what happened the other night,
Mrs. Bergen."

The woman raised a pallid face, her colorless eyes blinking up at him
beseechingly.

"Tell me," he whispered. "It can do no possible harm."

She glanced pitifully at him once more and then haltingly told her
story.

"I--I was sittin' in the kitchen there, the night of the supper
party--by the door--restin' and tryin' to get cool--when--when a knock
come on the door-jamb outside. It sounded queer--the door bein'
open--an' my nerves bein' shook sorter with the goin's on here. But I
went to the door an' leaned out. There was a man standin' in the
shadow----"

Mrs. Bergen paused in a renewed difficulty of breathing.

"And then----?" Peter urged.

"He--he leaned forward toward me an' spoke rough-like. 'You're the cook,
ain't you?' he says. I was that scared I--I couldn't say nothin'. An' he
went on. 'You tell McGuire to meet me at the end of the lawn to-morrow
night.'"

"And what did you say?"

"Nothin'. I couldn't."

"What else did he tell you?"

Mrs. Bergen bent her head but went on with an effort.

"He says, 'Tell McGuire Ben--Ben Cameron's come back.'"

"I see. And you were more frightened than ever?"

"Yes. More frightened--terrible. I didn't know what to do. I mumbled
somethin'. Then you an' Beth come in----"

"And _was_ it Ben Cameron that you saw?"

The poor creature raised her gaze to Peter's again.

"B-Ben Cameron? Who else could it 'a' been? An' I thought he was dead,
Mr. Nichols--years ago."

"You didn't recognize him, then?"

"I--I don't know. It was all so sudden--like seein' a corpse--speakin'
that name."

"He wore a short beard?"

"Yes. But Ben Came