at Machecoul. The rich
and great, they come and go, and we poor folk understand it no more
than the passing of the wind or the flight of the birds. But let us
get to our couches. The morn will soon be here, and it must not find
our bodies unrested or our eyes unrefreshed."

La Meffraye showed her guests where to make their beds in the outer
room of the cottage, which they did by moving the bench back and
stretching themselves with their heads to the wall and their feet to
the fire. Sholto lay on the side furthest from the entrance of the
room to which La Meffraye had retired with her husband. Malise was on
the other side, and Lord James lay in the midst, as befitted his rank.

These last were instantly asleep, being tired with their journey and
heavy with the meal of which they had partaken. But every sense in
Sholto's body was keenly awake. A vague inexpressible fear possessed
him. He lay watching the red unequal glow thrown upwards from the
embers, and through the wide opening in the roof he could discern the
twinkling of a star.

Within the chamber of La Meffraye there was silence. Sholto could not
even hear the heavy breathing of Caesar Martin. The silence was
complete.

Suddenly, from far away, there came up the howling of a wolf. It was
not an uncommon sound in the forests of France, or even in those of
his own country, yet somehow Sholto listened with a growing dread.
Nearer and nearer it came, till it seemed to reverberate immediately
beneath the eaves of the dwelling of Caesar the cripple.

The flicker of the embers died slowly out. Malise lay without a sound,
his head couched on his hand. Lord James began to groan and move
uneasily, like one in the grip of nightmare. Sholto listened yet more
acutely. Outside the house he could hear the soft pad-pad of wild
animals. Their pelts seemed almost to brush against the wooden walls
behind his head with a rustle like that of corded silk. Sholto felt
nervously for his sword and cleared it instinctively of the coverture
in which he was wrapped. Expectation tingled in his cheeks and palms.
The silence grew more and more oppressive. He could hear nothing but
that soft brushing and the galloping pads outside, as of something
that went round and round the house, weaving a coil of terror and
death about the doomed inmates.

Suddenly from the adjoining chamber a cry burst forth, so shrill and
terrible that not only Sholto but Malise also leaped to his feet.

"Mercy--m