as on that boat? And who the tenant of that room of the flashing
window? She was satisfied that the latter was one of a row of six
windows to three rooms occupied by Mrs. Standish, Mrs. Artemas,
and a pretty young widow who had arrived late Saturday afternoon and
whose name Sally had yet to learn.

She pondered it all with ever-deepening perplexity until a change came
over the night--a wind stirred, leaves rattled, boughs soughed
plaintively, the waters wakened and filled the void of silence with
soft clashing. Then, shivering, Sally rose and crept back toward the
house.

But when she paused on the edge of the last shadow, preparatory to the
dash across the moonlit space to the door, a step sounded beside her,
a hand caught at her cloak.

She started back with a stifled cry.

"Steady!" Lyttleton's voice counselled her guardedly. "Don't make a
row! Blessed if it ain't Miss Manwaring!"

CHAPTER IX

PICAROON

Plucking peremptorily at her cloak, Lyttleton drew the girl to him
and, seizing her hand, without further ceremony dragged her round the
clump of shrubbery to a spot secure from observation.

She submitted without a hint of resistance. But she was trembling
violently, and the contact with his hand was as fire to her blood.

Pausing, he stared and laughed uncertainly.

"Of all people!" he said in an undertone. "I never for an instant
thought of you!"

Controlling her voice tolerably, she asked directly: "How did you get
up again without my seeing you?"

"Simply enough--by the steps of the place next door. I saw you
watching me--saw your head over the edge of the landing, black against
the sky--and knew I'd never know who it was, unless by strategy. So I
came up the other way and cut across to head you off."

He added, after a pause, with a semi-apologetic air: "What do you mean
by it, anyway'?"

"What--?"

"Watching me this way--spying on me--?"

"But I didn't mean to. I was as surprised to see you as you were, just
now, to see me."

"Honestly?"

His eyes searched hers suspiciously. Flushing, she endeavoured to
assume some little dignity--drew up, lifted her chin, resumed
possession of her hand.

"Of course," she said in an injured voice.

"Sure Mrs.--sure nobody sent you to spy on me?"

"Mr. Lyttleton!"

"I want to believe you."

"You've no right not to!"

"But what, will you tell me, are you doing out here this time of
night?"

"I came out because I wanted to--I was restless,