so did
I.

"Oh, come, Marian," said she, "it isn't as bad as all that. And you talk
as if you hadn't anything to be reproached for. Your own defence of the
Celebrity wasn't as strong as it might have been."

By the light of the lantern I saw Miss Thorn cast one meaning look at
Miss Trevor.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Miss Thorn, addressing me.
"Think of that unhappy man, without a bed, without blankets, without
even a tooth-brush."

"He hasn't been wholly off my mind," I answered truthfully. "But there
isn't anything we can do to-night, with that beastly detective to notice
it."

"Then you must go very early to-morrow morning, before the detective
gets up."

I couldn't help smiling at the notion of getting up before a detective.

"I am only too willing," I said.

"It must be by four o'clock," Miss Thorn went on energetically, "and we
must have a guide we can trust. Arrange it with one of Uncle Fenelon's
friends."

"We?" I repeated.

"You certainly don't imagine that I am going to be left behind?" said
Miss Thorn.

I made haste to invite for the expedition one of the Four, who was quite
willing to go; and we got together all the bodily comforts we could
think of and put them in a hamper, the Fraction not forgetting to add a
few bottles from Mr. Cooke's immersed bar.

Long after the camp had gone to bed, I lay on the pine-needles above the
brook, shielded from the wind by a break in the slope, and thought of
the strange happenings of that day. Presently the waning moon climbed
reluctantly from the waters, and the stream became mottled, black
and white, the trees tall blurs. The lake rose and fell with a mighty
rhythm, and the little brook hurried madly over the stones to join it.
One thought chased another from my brain.

At such times, when one's consciousness of outer things is dormant, an
earthquake might continue for some minutes without one realizing it. I
did not observe, though I might have seen from where I lay, the flap of
one of the tents drawn back and two figures emerge. They came and stood
on the bank above, under the tree which sheltered me. And I experienced
a curious phenomenon. I heard, and understood, and remembered the first
part of the conversation which passed between them, and did not know it.

"I am sorry to disturb you," said one.

"Not at all," said the other, whose tone, I thought afterwards,
betokened surprise, and no great cheerfulness.

"But I have had no