test sound in opening the
door, but presently the head of the watcher turned slowly, and Byrne was
looking into those same yellow, terrible eyes. At the same instant the
sick man moaned faintly. The doctor closed the door as softly as he had
opened it and turned a drawn face upon Kate Cumberland.

"I don't understand; it isn't possible!" he whispered.

"No one understands," said the girl, and smiled mirthlessly. "Don't try
to, Doctor Byrne. Go to bed, and sleep. If you can. Good night."

"But you," said Byrne, following her, "are almost as ill as your father.
Is there nothing I can do for you?"

"You?" she asked, surprised. "No, nothing."

"But there's not the slightest colour in your face. And you are
trembling, Miss Cumberland!"

She did not seem to hear him.

"Will he stay?" she asked of herself. "Will he leave before the
morning?"

"I shall see that he stays," said the doctor. "I will stay here outside
the door and see that he does not leave, if you wish."

Once more she smiled in that baffling manner.

"Could you keep the wind from blowing, Doctor Byrne? If I thought that
he could be kept----" she stopped. "He has forgotten us. He has
forgotten all of us except Dad. And if Dad cannot keep him, nothing will
keep him. It's useless for you to wait here. Good night again, Doctor
Byrne."

He watched her up the stairs. By the dim light he saw her hand catching
at the balustrade as if she were drawing herself up, step by step. When
she reached the landing and turned half towards him, he saw that her
head was fallen.

"Not a glance, not a thought for me," murmured the doctor. "But if the
stranger _does_ leave----" Instead of finishing the muttered sentences,
he drew a chair back against the wall and sat down with folded hands to
wait.

CHAPTER XXI

MAC STRANN DECIDES TO KEEP THE LAW

It was hours later that night when Haw-Haw Langley and Mac Strann sat
their horses on the hill to the south. Before them, on the nearest rise
of ground, a clump of tall trees and the sharp triangle of a roof split
the sky, while down towards the right spread a wide huddle of sheds and
barns.

"That's where the trail ends," said Mac Strann, and started his horse
down the slope. Haw-Haw Langley urged his little mount hurriedly
alongside the squat bulk of his companion. He looked like the skeleton
reality, and Mac Strann the blunt, deformed shadow.

"You ain't going into the house lookin' for him, Mac?" he asked, an