her eyes starting with horror. Here
was some dreadful plot--they were going to murder Squire Chelwood,
perhaps! Should she run at once and give the alarm, or wait to hear
more? While she hesitated the woman spoke again.

"I suppose it's best to begin there?"

"There's nowhere else, not to speak of," answered the man, "'cept the
parson's."

The woman gave a low laugh. "I wonder how he liked the present you made
him this time seven years back," she said.

She got up as she spoke to lift the lid of the pot and stir its
contents; and Mary, afraid of being discovered, turned to go, trembling
with excitement. Treading with great care, and feeling her way with one
hand on the wall, she was almost half-way down when there fell on her
ear a sound which brought her to a sudden stand-still. Towards her,
coming through the empty room at the bottom of the stairs, there were
footsteps plainly to be heard! Without doubt it was "Bennie" returning.
The thought darted through Mary's mind, leaving her cold with terror.
What could she do? To go backwards or forwards was equally dreadful--
she was caught in a kind of trap. Oh for Jackie, Fraulein, Rice, who
were so near, and yet powerless to help her! All her courage gone, she
sank down on the stone step, covered her face with her hands, and
waited. The footsteps came nearer. In another minute the door at the
foot of the stairs swung back, and a youth of eighteen or twenty came
quickly up, almost stumbling over Mary in the dim light.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed, "it's a child!" He put his fingers in his mouth
and gave a low strange whistle, and in a moment the gypsy and his wife
came out of the room above.

"Here's a shine!" said Bennie.

He pointed to Mary, who still crouched motionless on the step with her
hair falling over her shoulders. They all stood staring at her in
surprise.

"Belongs to a party outside, I bet," said Bennie. "There's a lot of 'em
t'other side of the house. Seed 'em as I wur comin' back."

"Did they see you?" asked the man.

"No fear," answered Bennie shortly. "Got over the wall."

They muttered hoarsely together over Mary's head, using a strange
language which she could not understand; but she made out that they were
annoyed, and that they could not agree what should be done. At last the
woman stooped down to her.

"Where do you come from, my pretty?" she said in a wheedling tone.

Mary did not answer, but still kept her face hidden.