play," whispered the Baron.

"Mebbe he'll begin nearer the time," his companion suggested.

The Baron shivered. For the first time he had been persuaded to wear the
full panoply of a Highland chief, and though he had exhibited himself
to the ladies with much pride, and even in the course of dinner had
promised Eva Gallosh that he would never again don anything less
romantic, he now began to think that a travelling-rug of the Tulliwuddle
tartan would prove a useful addition to the outfit on the occasion of
a midnight vigil. Also the stern prohibition against talking aloud
(corroborated by the piper with many guttural warnings) grew more and
more irksome as the night advanced.

"It's an awesome place," whispered Mr. Gallosh.

"I hardly thought it would have been as lonesome-like."

There was a tremor in his voice that irritated the Baron.

"Pooh!" he answered, "it is jost vun old piece of hombog! I do not
believe in soch things myself."

"Neither do I, my lord; oh, neither do I; but--would you fancy a dram?"

"Not for me, I zank you," said his lordship stiffly.

Blessing the foresight of Mr. Rentoul, his host unscrewed his flask and
had a generous swig. As he was screwing on the top again, the Baron, in
a less haughty voice, whispered,

"Perhaps jost vun leetle taste."

They felt now for a few minutes more aggressively disposed.

"Ve need not have ze curtain shut," said the Baron. "Soppose you do draw
him?"

Through the gloom Mr. Gallosh took one or two faltering steps.

"Man, it's awful hard to see one's way," he said nervously.

The Baron took the candle, and with a martial stride escorted him to the
window. They pulled aside one corner of the heavy curtain, and then let
it fall again and hurried back. So far north there was indeed a gleam of
daylight left, but it was such a pale and ghostly ray, and the wreaths
of mist swept so eerily and silently across the pane, that candle-light
and shadows seemed vastly preferable.

"How much more time will there be?" whispered Mr. Gallosh presently.

"It is twenty-five minutes to twelve."

"Your lordship! Can we leave at twelve?"

The Baron started.

"Oh, Himmel!" he exclaimed. "Vy did I not realize before? If nozing
comes--and nozing vill come--ve most stay till one, I soppose."

Mr. Gallosh emitted something like a groan.

"Oh my, and that candle will not last more than half an hour at the
most!"

"Teufel!" said the Baron. "It vas Bonker did give him