fter all? And which is the dog, Buckhurst or Mornac?"

"I once thought it was Buckhurst," I said.

"So did I, but--I don't know now. I don't know what to do, either. I
don't know anything!"

I began to walk about the room, carefully, for my knees were weak,
though I had no headache.

"It's a shame for a pair of hulking brutes like you and me to
desecrate this bedroom," I muttered. "Mud on the floor--look at it!
Sawdust and candle-wax over everything! What's that--all that on the
lounge? Has a dog or a cat been rolling over it? It's plastered with
tan-colored hairs!"

"Lion's hairs from your coat," he observed, grimly.

I looked at them for a moment rather soberly. They glistened like gold
in the early sunshine.

Speed opened his mouth to say something, but closed it abruptly as a
very faint tapping sounded on our door.

I opened it; Sylvia Elven stood in the hallway.

"Oh," she said, in ungracious astonishment, "then you are not on the
grave's awful verge,... are you?"

"I hope you didn't expect to discover me there?" I replied,
laughing.

"Expect it? Indeed I did, monsieur,... or I shouldn't be here at
sunrise, scratching at your door for news of you. This," she said,
petulantly, "is enough to vex any saint!"

"Any other saint," I corrected, gravely. "I admit it, mademoiselle,
I am a nuisance; so is my comrade. We have only to express our deep
gratitude and go."

"Go? Do you think we will let you go, with all those bandits roaming
the moors outside our windows? And you call that gratitude?"

"Does Madame de Vassart desire us to stay?" I asked, trying not to
speak too eagerly.

Sylvia Elven gave me a scornful glance.

"Must we implore you, monsieur, to protect us? We will, if you wish
it. I know I'm ill-humored, but it's scarcely daybreak, and we've sat
up all night on your account--Madame de Vassart would not allow me to
go to bed--and if I am brusque with you, remember I was obliged to
sleep in a chair--and I hope you feel that you have put me to very
great inconvenience."

"I feel that way ... about Madame de Vassart," I said, laughing at
the pretty, pouting mouth and sleepy eyes of this amusingly
exasperated young girl, who resembled a rumpled Dresden shepherdess
more than anything else. I added that we would be glad to stay until
the communist free-rifles took themselves off. For which she thanked
me with an exaggerated courtesy and retired, furiously conscious that
she had not only slept in