t, and came hurrying back, a negro boy,
holding a long fold of matting over his head to shed the rain, chasing
at his heels. It was Alphonse.

"M'sieu' not yet of return," said he, in labored translation of his
negro French, "and Madame remain chez Madame d'Hervilly. I am alone wiz
my mudder, and she has fear."

"Oh, it's all right, I fancy," said Cram, reassuringly. "They were
caught by the storm, and wisely stayed up-town. I saw your gate open, so
we stopped to inquire. We'll ride over to Madame d'Hervilly's and ask
for them. How came your gate open?"

"_Mo connais pas_; I dunno, sare. It was lock' last night."

"Why, that's odd," said Cram. "Better bolt it now, or all the cattle
along the levee will be in there. You can't lock out the water, though.
Who had the key besides Mr. Lascelles or Madame?"

"Nobody, sare; but there is muddy foots all over the piazza."

"The devil! I'll have to look in for a moment."

A nod to Pierce brought him too from the saddle, and the officers
handed their reins to the orderlies. Then together they entered the gate
and strode up the white shell walk, looking curiously about them through
the dripping shrubbery. Again that dismal howl was raised, and Pierce,
stopping with impatient exclamation, tore half a brick from the yielding
border of the walk and sent it hurtling through the trees. With his tail
between his legs, the brute darted from behind a sheltering bush,
scurried away around the corner of the house, glancing fearfully back,
then, halting at safe distance, squatted on his haunches and lifted up
his mournful voice again.

"Whose dog is that?" demanded Cram.

"M'sieu' Philippe's: he not now here. He is de brudder to Monsieur."

At the steps the captain bent and closely examined them and the floor of
the low veranda to which they led. Both were disfigured with muddy
footprints. Pierce would have gone still further in the investigation,
but his senior held up a warning hand.

"Two men have been here," he muttered. "They have tried the door and
tried the blinds.--Where did you sleep last night, boy?" and with the
words he turned suddenly on the negro. "Did you hear no sound?"

"No, sare. I sleep in my bed,--'way back. No, I hear noting,--noting."
And now the negro's face was twitching, his eyes staring. Something in
the soldier's stern voice told him that there was tragedy in the air.

"If this door is locked, go round and open it from within," said Cram,
briefly. The