of the priests
in Frederick. Father Tierney seems the most looked up to, and I gave him
a subscription yesterday for his orphan asylum."

Half an hour later Marchmont and two men found themselves before a
small, square stone house, standing apart from its neighbours in a
small, square yard. From without the moonbeams flooded it, from within
came no pinpoint of light. It was past the middle of the night, and
almost all the town lay still and dark. Marchmont lifted the brass
knocker and let it fall. The sound, deep and reverberant, should have
reached every ear within, however inattentive. He waited, but there came
no answering footfall. He knocked again--no light nor sound; again--only
interstellar quiet. He shook the door. "Go around to the back, Roberts,
and see if you can get in." Roberts departed. Marchmont picked up some
pieces of gravel from the path and threw them against the window panes,
to no effect. Roberts came back. "That's an awful heavy door, sir,
heavier than this. And the windows are high up."

"Very good," said the captain. "This one looks stronger than it really
is. Stand back, you two."

He put his shoulder to the door--"Wait a minute, sir! Somebody's lit a
candle upstairs."

The candle passed leisurely from window to window, was lost for a
minute, and then, through a small fan-light above the door, was observed
descending the stairs. A bolt creaked, then another. The door opened,
and Father Tierney, hastily gowned and blinking, stood before the
invaders. He shaded his candle with his hand, and the light struck back,
showing a strong and rosy and likable face. "Faith!" he said, "an' I
thought I was after hearin' a noise. Good-evenin', gentlemen--or rather
good-morning, for it must be toward cockcrow. What--"

"It's not so late as that," interrupted Marchmont. "I wish I had your
recipe for sleeping, father. It would be invaluable when a man didn't
want to be waked up. However, my business is not with you, but--"

"Holy powers!" said Father Tierney, "did ye not know that I live here by
myself? Father Lavalle is at the other end of town, and Father O'Hara
lives by the Noviciate. Sure, and any one could have told you--"

"Father Lavalle and Father O'Hara," said the aide, "are nothing to the
question. You have a guest with you--"

Father Tierney looked enlightened. "Oh! Av coorse! There's always
business on hand between soldiers. Was it Lieutenant McNeill you'll be
looking after?"

Marchmont no