as he gazed
disconsolately at the blank, unsympathetic opening. But he could see no
movement therein.

He lost count of time as he lay dreaming of the girl whose existence had
become more to him than his very life, and it was not until he suddenly
realized that he had become stiff and cramped from the cold that he
looked at his watch. Nearly two! Once more he glanced sorrowfully at
the window, realizing that no comfort was to be obtained therefrom, and
decided he might as well make his way back, for all the ease of mind he
was getting.

He turned slowly to get up, but just as he did so he noticed a
slight movement at the side of the house before him, and he remained
motionless, gazing intently forward. Then, spellbound, he watched Mr.
Coburn leave by the side door, walk quickly to the shed, unlock a door,
and disappear within.

There was something so secretive in the way the manager looked around
before venturing into the open, and so stealthy about his whole walk and
bearing, that Merriman's heart beat more quickly as he wondered if
he was now on the threshold of some revelation of the mystery of that
outwardly innocent place. Obeying a sudden instinct, he rose from his
hiding-place in the bushes and crept silently across the sward to the
door by which the other had entered.

It was locked, and the whole place was dark and silent. Were it not for
what he had just seen, Merriman would have believed it deserted. But
it was evident that some secret and perhaps sinister activity was in
progress within, and for the moment he forgot even Madeleine in his
anxiety to learn its nature.

He crept silently round the shed, trying each door and peering into
each window, but without result. All remained fast and in darkness, and
though he listened with the utmost intentness of which he was capable,
he could not catch any sound.

His round of the building completed, he paused in doubt. Should he
retire while there was time, and watch for Mr. Coburn's reappearance
with perhaps some of his accomplices, or should he wait at the door and
tackle him on the matter when he came out? His first preference was for
the latter course, but as he thought it over he felt it would be better
to reserve his knowledge, and he turned to make for cover.

But even as he did so he heard the manager say in low harsh tones:
"Hands up now, or I fire!" and swinging round, he found himself gazing
into the bore of a small deadly-looking repeating pisto