head. I felt that he
noted me not at all, and as the gloom swallowed him up, saw him throw
out his hand with a significant gesture, as of one who has neither hope
nor courage.

It was this motion which made my heart give a sudden leap and set it
throbbing light and quick in my throat, for the belief came to me that
the stranger was none other than Danvers Carmichael, though any
reasonable explanation for his being abroad alone at such an hour and
going toward Stair was far from clear to me. My first thought was to
call out to him, but a bit of caution held me back, and upon thinking
it over I made sure that my eyes and the fog had combined to deceive
me, and I put the thing out of my mind altogether and hurried on toward
home. Nearing the house I kept close to the high stone wall for
protection against the wind, thinking to enter the grounds from the
lower carriage-way, but the gates were closed, and I was forced to the
main gate, the irons of which were swung far back.

As I turned into the path my eye was caught by a wide cone of light
which came from the window of the room in which I had left his Grace of
Borthwicke. Looking more attentively, I saw to my amazement that the
window nearest the writing-table was wide open, and I thought to go
directly to this place, for there was a low porch outside from which an
entrance to the house could be effected. I had started across the lawn
when I heard a pistol shot, followed by a pause, and then another,
quick upon the heels of the first, which had seemed to come from the
house. But the second, whether because of my confusion of mind or the
blowing of the wind, appeared to have been somewhere behind me, and
with a thought for my own safety I stepped under some frozen vines
which hung above the gateway. As I did so, a small figure, coming from
I know not what direction, passed through the cone of light. It ran low
to the ground and light, and with incredible swiftness disappeared
somewhere in the rose-garden by the south wall. Then a silence fell,
and for a few seconds I stood waiting to hear a disturbance in the
house, but finding naught happening I ran up the path in a
preternatural hurry of spirits, and set the knocker of the main door
clanging so that it might disturb the dead.

Even with all this racketing it was full five minutes before Huey
MacGrath stuck his head, with a white nightcap upon it, from the attic
window, holding a lighted candle high in his hand as he