th ivy. I remember no other."

"Is there any way of getting on to the top of that wall from this
tower?" asked Joseph.

"Certainly there is. People often walk round the top of those walls.
They are more than thick enough for that."

"Are you able to do it?"

"Yes, quite. I have been round them more than once. But I don't like
the idea of looking in at a window."

"No more do I, miss; but you must remember, if it is his room, it will
only be your eyes going where the whole of you has a right to be; and,
if it should not be that room, they have driven you to it: such a
necessity will justify it."

"You must be right," answered Mary, and, turning, led the way up the
stair of the tower, and through a gap in the wall out upon the top of
the great walls.

It was a sultry night. A storm was brooding between heaven and earth.
The moon was not yet up, and it was so dark that they had to feel their
way along the wall, glad of the protection of a fence of thick ivy on
the outer side. Looking down into the court on the one hand, and across
the hall to the lawn on the other, they saw no living thing in the
light from various windows, and there was little danger of being
discovered. In the gable was only the one window for which they were
making. Mary went first, as better knowing the path, also as having the
better right to look in. Through the window, as she went, she could see
the flicker, but not the fire. All at once came a great blaze. It
lasted but a moment--long enough, however, to let them see plainly into
a small closet, the door of which was partly open.

"That is the room, I do believe," whispered Mary. "There is a closet,
but I never was in it."

"If only the window be not bolted!" returned Joseph.

The same instant Mary heard the voice of Mr. Redmain call in a tone of
annoyance--"Mary! Mary Marston! I want you. Who is that in the
room?--Damn you! who are you?"

"Let me pass you," said Joseph, and, making her hold to the ivy, here
spread on to the gable, he got between Mary and the window. The blaze
was gone, and the fire was at its old flicker. The window was not
bolted. He lifted the sash. A moment and he was in. The next, Mary was
beside him.

Something, known to her only as an impulse, induced Mary to go softly
to the door of the closet, and peep into the room. She saw Hesper, as
she thought, standing--sidewise to the closet--by a chest of drawers
invisible from the bed. A candle stood on the farther