gly. Masterson's manner showed that it was something more
than an accident.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked McVeigh in a guarded tone; and
Masterson pointed to the package in Delaven's hand.

"I think we've found it, Colonel," he said, excitedly. "Doctor
Delaven, what is in that envelope?"

"Faith, I don't know, Captain. The fellow didn't give me time to read
it."

"Give it to me."

"No, I'll not," returned Delaven, moving towards the light.

"And why not?" demanded Masterson, suspiciously.

"Because it's from a lady, and it's private."

He held the envelope to the light, but there was no name or address on
it. He tore off the end and in extracting the contents two papers
slipped out and fell on the ground. Masterson picked them up and after
a glance waved them triumphantly, while Delaven looked puzzled over
the slip in his hands. It was only something about military
matters,--the furthest thing possible from a billet-doux.

"I thought myself it was the weightiest one ever launched by Cupid,"
he remarked as he shook his head over the mystery. But Masterson
thrust the papers into McVeigh's hands.

"Your commission and instructions, Colonel!" he said, jubilantly.
"What a run of luck. See if they are all right."

"Every one of them," and in a moment the Judge and Masterson were
shaking hands with him, while Delaven stood apart and stared. He was
glad they were having so much joy to themselves, but could not see why
he should be choked to obtain it for them.

"Understand one thing," said Masterson, when the congratulations were
over; "those papers were thrown from that balcony to Dr. Delaven by
mistake. The man they were meant for tried to strangle the doctor and
has escaped, but the man who escaped, Colonel, was evidently only a
messenger, and the real culprit, the traitor, is in your house now,
and reached the balcony through that corridor door!"

The wind blew Margeret's lamp out, leaving them, for an instant, in
darkness, but she entered the hall, turned up the light there so that
it shone across the veranda and down the steps; then she lit the lamp
in the library and went softly up the stairs and out of sight.

"Come into the library," suggested McVeigh. "You are right, Phil,
there is only one thing to be done in the face of such evidence By
Jove! It seems incredible. I would have fought for Jack Monroe, sworn
by him, and after all--"

A leisurely step sounded on the stairs and Monroe descended