now you need sleep. Just
the same," she hesitated with one foot on the first tread of the stair,
"I wonder."

CHAPTER III

THE RALESTONES ENTERTAIN AN UNOBTRUSIVE VISITOR

Val lay trapped in an underground cavern, chained to the floor. An
unseen monster was creeping up his prostrate body. He could feel its hot
breath on his cheek. With a mighty effort he broke his bonds and threw
out his arms in an attempt to fight off his tormentor.

The morning sun was warm across his pillow, making him blink. On his
chest stood Satan, kneading the bedclothes with his front paws and
purring gently. From the open window came a fresh, rain-washed breeze.

Having aroused the sleeper, Satan deserted his post to hang half-way out
the window, intent upon the housekeeping arrangements of several birds
who had built in the hedges below. A moment later Val elbowed him aside
to look out upon the morning.

It was a fine one. Wisps of mist from the bayou still hung about the
lower garden, but the sun had already dried the brick-paved paths. A bee
blundered past Val's nose, and he realized that it might be well to
close the screen hanging shutter-like outside.

From the direction of the hidden water came the faint _putt-putt_ of a
motor-boat, but inside Pirate's Haven there was utter silence. As yet
the rest of the family were not abroad. Val dropped his pajamas in a
huddle by the bed and dressed leisurely, feeling very much at peace with
this new world. Perhaps that was the last time he was to feel so for
many days to come. He stole cautiously out of his room and tiptoed down
halls and dark stairs, wanting to be alone while he discovered Pirate's
Haven for himself.

The Long Hall looked chilly and bleak, even though patches of sunlight
were fighting the usual gloom. On the hearth-stone lay a scrap of white,
doubtless Ricky's handkerchief. Val flung open the front door and
stepped out on the terrace, drawing deep lungfuls of the morning air.
The blossoms on the morning-glory vines which wreathed the edge of the
terrace were open to the sun, and the birds sang in the bushes below.
Satan streaked by and disappeared into the tangle. It was suddenly very
good to be alive. The boy stretched luxuriously and started to explore,
choosing the nearest of the crazy, wandering paths which began at the
circle of the old carriage drive.

Here was evidence of last night's storm. Wisps of Spanish moss, torn
from the great live-oaks of the avenu