duke and his lordship venture forth into the spattering rain. They had
gone no more than three rods up the path when they were brought to a
halt by the sounds of a prodigious struggle behind them. There was a
great trampling of horses' hoofs, accompanied by the frantic shouts of
the count.

"I cannot hold zem! Mon Dieu! Zey are mad! Ho! Ho! Help!"

He was in truth having a monstrous unpleasant time. His two
friends stumbled to his assistance, but not in time to prevent the
catastrophe. The three horses had taken it into their heads to bolt
for home; they were plunging and pulling in three directions at the
same time, the count manfully clinging to the bridle reins, in great
danger of being suddenly and shockingly dismembered.

"Hold to 'em!" shouted Lord Cecil.

"Help!" shouted the count, at the same moment releasing his grip on
the reins. Away tore the horses, kicking great chunks of mud over him
as he tumbled aimlessly into the underbrush. Down the road clattered
the animals, leaving the trio marooned in the wilderness. Groaning and
half dead, the unfortunate count was dragged from the brush by his
furious companions. What the duke said to him was sufficient without
being repeated, here or elsewhere. The count challenged him as they
all resumed the march up the hill to visit the house with the lighted
windows.

"Here is my card, m'sieur," he grated furiously.

"Demme, I know you!" roared the duke. "Keep your card and we'll send
it in to announce our arrival to Shaw."

In due course of time, after many slips and falls, they reached the
front yard of the house on the hillside. It was still raining lightly;
the thunder and lightning were clashing away noisily farther up the
valley. Cautiously they approached through the weeds and brush.

"By Jove!" exclaimed his lordship, coming to a standstill. He turned
the light of his lantern toward the front elevation of the house.
"Every door and window, except these three, are boarded up. It can't
be Shaw's home."

"That's right, old chap. Deuced queer, eh? I say, Deveaux, step up and
pound on the door. You've got a card, you know."

"Que diable!" exclaimed the count, sinking into the back-ground.

"We might reconnoitre a bit," said Bazelhurst. "Have a look at the
rear, you know."

Around the corner of the house they trailed, finally bringing up at
the back steps. The windows were not only dark but boarded up. While
they stood there amazed and uncertain, the rain