seless; if
still here, then no harm has been done and there is nothing to undo."

Prescott grew nervous, and presently he went forth to watch the hue and
cry. The house of Miss Charlotte Grayson had not been searched yet, but
it was soon to be, as Miss Grayson was well known for her Northern
sympathies. He hovered in the vicinity, playing the role of the curious
onlooker, in which he was not alone, and presently he saw a small party
of soldiers, ten in number, headed by Talbot himself, arrive in front of
the little brown cottage.

When he beheld his friend conducting this particular portion of the
search, Prescott was tempted, if the opportunity offered, to confide the
truth to Talbot and leave the rest to his generosity; but cool
reflection told him that he had no right to put such a weight upon a
friend, and while he sought another way, Talbot himself hailed him.

"Come along and hold up my hands for me, Bob," he said. "This is a nasty
duty that they've put me to--it's that man Sefton--and I need help when
I pry into the affairs of a poor old maid's house--Miss Charlotte
Grayson."

Prescott accepted the invitation, because it was given in such a
friendly way and because he was drawn on by curiosity--a desire to see
the issue. It might be that Miss Catherwood, reasserting her claim of
innocence, would not seek to conceal herself, but it seemed to him that
the evidence against her was too strong. And he believed that she would
do anything to avoid compromising Miss Grayson.

The house was closed, windows and doors, but a thin gray stream of smoke
rose from the chimney. Prescott noticed, with wary eye, that the snow
which lay deep on the ground was all white and untrodden in front of the
house.

One of the soldiers, obedient to Talbot's order, used the knocker of the
door, and after repeating the action twice and thrice and receiving no
response, broke the lock with the butt of his rifle.

"I have to do it," said Talbot with an apologetic air to Prescott. "It's
orders."

They entered the little drawing-room and found Miss Grayson, sitting in
prim and dignified silence, in front of the feeble fire that burned on
the hearth. It looked to Prescott like the same fire that was flickering
there when first he came, but he believed now it was his coal.

Miss Grayson remained silent, but a high colour glowed in her face and
much fire was in her eye. She shot one swift glance at Prescott and then
ignored him. Talbot, Pr