was heard to close.
Caroline took a candle and went quietly all over the house, seeing that
every window was fast and every door barred. She did not even evade the
haunted back kitchen nor the vault-like cellars. These visited, she
returned.

"There is neither spirit nor flesh in the house at present," she said,
"which should not be there. It is now near eleven o'clock, fully
bedtime; yet I would rather sit up a little longer, if you do not
object, Shirley. Here," she continued, "I have brought the brace of
pistols from my uncle's study. You may examine them at your leisure."

She placed them on the table before her friend.

"Why would you rather sit up longer?" asked Miss Keeldar, taking up the
firearms, examining them, and again laying them down.

"Because I have a strange, excited feeling in my heart."

"So have I."

"Is this state of sleeplessness and restlessness caused by something
electrical in the air, I wonder?"

"No; the sky is clear, the stars numberless. It is a fine night."

"But very still. I hear the water fret over its stony bed in Hollow's
Copse as distinctly as if it ran below the churchyard wall."

"I am glad it is so still a night. A moaning wind or rushing rain would
vex me to fever just now."

"Why, Shirley?"

"Because it would baffle my efforts to listen."

"Do you listen towards the Hollow?"

"Yes; it is the only quarter whence we can hear a sound just now."

"The only one, Shirley."

They both sat near the window, and both leaned their arms on the sill,
and both inclined their heads towards the open lattice. They saw each
other's young faces by the starlight and that dim June twilight which
does not wholly fade from the west till dawn begins to break in the
east.

"Mr. Helstone thinks we have no idea which way he is gone," murmured
Miss Keeldar, "nor on what errand, nor with what expectations, nor how
prepared. But I guess much; do not you?"

"I guess something."

"All those gentlemen--your cousin Moore included--think that you and I
are now asleep in our beds, unconscious."

"Caring nothing about them--hoping and fearing nothing for them," added
Caroline.

Both kept silent for full half an hour. The night was silent too; only
the church clock measured its course by quarters. Some words were
interchanged about the chill of the air. They wrapped their scarves
closer round them, resumed their bonnets, which they had removed, and
again watched.

Towards midnight the tea