am was constitutionally unable to imagine that any dignity
could add to the position she already held as heiress of four hundred
years of Ferrises of Cairn Ferris.

Stair wandered away up the slope towards the Gibbet Knoll, Whitefoot
stealing along at his heels, walking almost in his tracks, but with his
ears cocked to catch the slightest unexplained noise. As he arrived
under the scant foliage of the few remaining gaunt trees, tall
branchless trunks with a mere plume at the top of each, bent permanently
away from the south-west by the sea-winds, he walked to the small stone
platform on which the Baron had issued his decree. From that point of
outlook it was possible to see the towers of Castle Raincy looming over
the grey sea of vapour, which filled all the lower ground and now and
then flung out an arm that momentarily snatched at and submerged the
Gibbet Knoll.

Stair had not gone far when something large and dark darted across the
path between the trees where the snow had been blown a little bare.
Stair was instantly in pursuit. It was not a time when he could afford
to overlook anything. A man it was, certainly, for the moment the
thicker underbrush was reached he rose half erect and went plunging head
foremost into it.

But Whitefoot was before him, and had him by the throat before he could
run ten yards. Stair, immediately behind, saw the man's hand go to his
belt, and comprehended that Whitefoot's life was in danger.

With a spring he was upon him. One hand gripped the fugitive's wrist.
With a pull backward he had him on the ground. His foot pushed aside the
eager jaws of Whitefoot and saved the man's life. Then he knelt stolidly
on one arm, holding the other extended while he searched the man for
arms in a swift professional manner. A knife and a pair of pistols were
his booty. These he tossed aside and bade the dog keep guard over them.

"Now who are you and what are you doing here?" he demanded in a hoarse
whisper in the fellow's ear. "Speak, man, if you have any wish to live."

The man kept silence, though he had given up struggling. But it was
evident that he was not anxious to be recognized.

"This way, then," growled Stair, "and the worse for you if you have been
out after any mischief."

He dragged the man roughly enough out upon the open surface of the snow,
and knelt upon him, bringing his face close to that of his captive.

"Good God," he cried, forgetting his danger in his astonishment, "Ebe