ing in a measure the courage that had temporarily
deserted her.

In the hallway they paused to look out over the broad porch. The storm
had died away, sighing its own requiem in the misty tree-tops. Dawn
was not far away. A thick fog was rising to meet the first glance of
day. In surprise Shaw looked at his watch, her face at his shoulder.
It was after five o'clock.

"Ghosts turn in at midnight, dear," he said with a cheerful smile.
"They don't keep such hours as these."

"But who can it be? There are no tramps in the mountains," she
protested, glancing over her shoulder apprehensively.

"Listen! By Jove, that voice came from the cellar."

"And the lock is broken," she exclaimed. "But how silly of me! Ghosts
don't stop for locks."

"I'll drop the bolts just the same," he said, as they hurried down
the hallway. At the back stairs they stopped and listened for many
minutes. Not a sound came up to them from below. Softly he closed the
door and lowered two heavy bars into place. "If there's any one down
there they probably think they've heard spooks trotting around up
here."

"Really, it's quite thrilling, isn't it?" she whispered, in her
excitement.

"In any event, we're obliged to remain under cover until they depart,"
he said thoughtfully. "We can't be seen here dearest."

"No," she murmured, "not even though it is _our_ house."

They returned to the big room as softly as mice and he left her a
moment later to close the heavy window shutters on the porch. When
he returned there was a grim smile on his face and his voice shook a
little as he spoke.

"I've heard the voices again. They came from the laundry I think. The
Renwoods were downright Yankees, Penelope; I will swear that these
voices are amazingly English."

CHAPTER VII

IN WHICH THE AUTHOR TRESPASSES

This narrative has quite as much to do with the Bazelhurst side of the
controversy as it has with Shaw's. It is therefore but fair that the
heroic invasion by Lord Cecil should receive equal consideration from
the historian. Shaw's conquest of one member of the force opposing him
was scarcely the result of bravery; on the other hand Lord Cecil's
dash into the enemy's country was the very acme of intrepidity. Shaw
had victory fairly thrust upon him; Lord Bazelhurst had a thousand
obstacles to overcome before he could even so much as stand face to
face with the enemy. Hence the expedition that started off in the wake
of the deserter deserves