sing, monotonous bark of the house-dog disturbed
the quietude of their vigil. Caroline rose, and made her way noiselessly
through the dark passages to the kitchen, intending to appease him with
a piece of bread. She succeeded. On returning to the dining-room she
found it all dark, Miss Keeldar having extinguished the candle. The
outline of her shape was visible near the still open window, leaning
out. Miss Helstone asked no questions; she stole to her side. The dog
recommenced barking furiously. Suddenly he stopped, and seemed to
listen. The occupants of the dining-room listened too, and not merely
now to the flow of the mill-stream. There was a nearer, though a
muffled, sound on the road below the churchyard--a measured, beating,
approaching sound--a dull tramp of marching feet.

It drew near. Those who listened by degrees comprehended its extent. It
was not the tread of two, nor of a dozen, nor of a score of men; it was
the tread of hundreds. They could see nothing; the high shrubs of the
garden formed a leafy screen between them and the road. To hear,
however, was not enough, and this they felt as the troop trod forwards,
and seemed actually passing the rectory. They felt it more when a human
voice--though that voice spoke but one word--broke the hush of the
night.

"Halt!"

A halt followed. The march was arrested. Then came a low conference, of
which no word was distinguishable from the dining-room.

"We _must_ hear this," said Shirley.

She turned, took her pistols from the table, silently passed out through
the middle window of the dining-room, which was, in fact, a glass door,
stole down the walk to the garden wall, and stood listening under the
lilacs. Caroline would not have quitted the house had she been alone,
but where Shirley went she would go. She glanced at the weapon on the
sideboard, but left it behind her, and presently stood at her friend's
side. They dared not look over the wall, for fear of being seen; they
were obliged to crouch behind it. They heard these words,--

"It looks a rambling old building. Who lives in it besides the damned
parson?"

"Only three women--his niece and two servants."

"Do you know where they sleep?"

"The lasses behind; the niece in a front room."

"And Helstone?"

"Yonder is his chamber. He was burning a light, but I see none now."

"Where would you get in?"

"If I were ordered to do his job--and he desarves it--I'd try yond' long
window; it opens to the d