imilar in character.

"Snail be d--d!" said Northmour. "Hush!"

The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then a
formidable voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word
"_Traditore!_"

Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered; next
moment he fell insensible below the table. Northmour and I had each run
to the armoury and seized a gun. Clara was on her feet with her hand at
her throat.

So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was certainly
come; but second passed after second, and all but the surf remained
silent in the neighbourhood of the pavilion.

"Quick," said Northmour; "upstairs with him before they come."

CHAPTER VIII

TELLS THE LAST OF THE TALL MAN

Somehow or other, by hook and crook, and between the three of us, we got
Bernard Huddlestone bundled upstairs and laid upon the bed in _My
Uncle's Room_. During the whole process, which was rough enough, he gave
no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we had thrown him, without
changing the position of a finger. His daughter opened his shirt and
began to wet his head and bosom; while Northmour and I ran to the
window. The weather continued clear; the moon, which was now about full,
had risen and shed a very clear light upon the links; yet, strain our
eyes as we might, we could distinguish nothing moving. A few dark spots,
more or less, on the uneven expanse, were not to be identified; they
might be crouching men, they might be shadows; it was impossible to be
sure.

"Thank God," said Northmour, "Aggie is not coming to-night."

Aggie was the name of the old nurse; he had not thought of her till now;
but that he should think of her at all was a trait that surprised me in
the man.

We were again reduced to waiting. Northmour went to the fireplace and
spread his hands before the red embers, as if he were cold. I followed
him mechanically with my eyes, and in so doing turned my back upon the
window. At that moment a very faint report was audible from without, and
a ball shivered a pane of glass, and buried itself in the shutter two
inches from my head. I heard Clara scream; and though I whipped
instantly out of range and into a corner, she was there, so to speak,
before me, beseeching to know if I were hurt. I felt that I could stand
to be shot at every day and all day long, with such marks of solicitude
for a reward; and I continued to reassure her, with the tenderest
caresses an