y, respecting Fire-Tongue, had been
due to the fact that the surgeon had seen the secret mark upon his arm
after the accident in the Haymarket. He remembered distinctly that his
sleeve had been torn upon that occasion. He could not imagine, however,
what had directed the attention of the organization to Sir Charles, and
for what reason his death had been decided upon.

He rolled his cigar from corner to corner of his mouth, staring
reflectively with lack-lustre eyes at the silent house before him. In
the moonlight it made a peaceful picture enough. A cautious tour of the
place revealed a lighted window upon the first floor. Standing in the
shadow of an old apple tree, Nicol Brinn watched the blind of this
window minute after minute, patiently waiting for a shadow to appear
upon it; and at last his patience was rewarded.

A shadow appeared--the shadow of a woman!

Nicol Brinn dropped his cigar at his feet and set his heel upon it. A
bitter-sweet memory which had been with him for seven years arose
again in his mind. There is a kind of mountain owl in certain parts
of northern India which possesses a curiously high, plaintive note. He
wondered if he could remember and reproduce that note.

He made the attempt, repeating the cry three times. At the third
repetition the light in the first floor window went out. He heard the
sound of the window being gently opened. Then a voice--a voice
which held the sweetest music in the world for the man who listened
below--spoke softly:

"Nicol!"

"Naida!" he called. "Come down to me. You must. Don't answer. I will
wait here."

"Promise you will let me return!"

He hesitated.

"Promise!"

"I promise."

CHAPTER XXIX. THE CATASTROPHE

The first faint spears of morning creeping through the trees which
surrounded Hillside revealed two figures upon a rustic bench in the
little orchard adjoining the house. A pair incongruous enough--this
dark-eyed Eastern woman, wrapped in a long fur cloak, and Nicol Brinn,
gaunt, unshaven, fantastic in his evening dress, revealed now in the
gray morning light.

"Look!" whispered Naida. "It is the dawn. I must go!"

Nicol Brinn clenched his teeth tightly but made no reply.

"You promised," she said, and although her voice was very tender she
strove to detach his arm, which was locked about her shoulders.

He nodded grimly.

"I'll keep my word. I made a contract with hell with my eyes open, and
I'll stick to it." He stood up suddenly