ite sure," said Betty vigorously. "I always know." She added with
apparent inconsequence, "That's how it is we always get on so well. Are
you going to take me right out on to the ramparts? Are you sure there
will be no one else there?"

"There will be no one where we are going," he said.

She sighed a sigh of relief.

"How good! We shall get some air up there, too. And I want air--plenty
of it. I feel suffocated."

"Mind how you go!" said Herne. "These stairs are uneven."

They had come to a spiral staircase of stone. Betty mounted it
light-footed, Herne following close behind.

In the end they came to an oak door, against which the girl set her
hand.

"Major Herne! It's locked!"

"Allow me!" said Herne.

He had produced a large key, at which Betty looked with keen
satisfaction.

"You really are a wonderful person. You overcome all difficulties."

"Not quite that, I am afraid." Herne was smiling. "But this is a
comparatively simple matter. The key happens to be in my charge. With
your permission, we will lock the door behind us."

"Do!" she said eagerly. "I have never been at this end of the ramparts.
I believe I shall spend the rest of the evening here, where no one can
follow us."

"Haven't you any more partners?" asked Herne.

She showed him a full card with a little grimace.

"I have had such an awful experience. I am going to cut the rest."

He smiled a little.

"Rather hard on the rest. However----"

"Oh, don't be silly!" she said impatiently. "It isn't like you."

"No," said Herne.

He spoke quietly, almost as if he were thinking of something else. They
had passed through the stone doorway, and had emerged upon a flagged
passage that led between stone walls to the ramparts. Betty passed along
this quickly, mounted the last flight of steps that led to the
battlements, and stood suddenly still.

A marvellous scene lay spread below them in the moonlight--silent land
and whispering sea. The music of the band in the distant ballroom rose
fitfully--such music as is heard in dreams. Betty stood quite motionless
with the moonlight shining on her face. She looked like a nymph caught
up from the shimmering water.

Impulsively at length she turned to the man beside her.

"Shall I tell you what has been happening to me to-night?"

"If you really wish me to know," said Herne.

She jerked her shoulder with a hint of impatience.

"I feel as if I must tell someone, and you are as safe, as any on