r that would banish her fears;
but suppose it was not Mabel she had heard? There was, however, another
way of finding out, and with something of an effort she went upstairs.

Mrs. Farnam's room was on the landing, and Agatha turned the handle
cautiously. The door would not open, and it was obvious that Mabel had
locked herself in. Then the latch slipped back with a jar that sounded
horribly loud, and she waited, trembling and trying to keep calm. Since
Mabel had not heard the noise, it was plain that she was asleep and
somebody else was in the house. Still Mabel, if awakened, would not be
of much help, and remembering that the pistol was in her room, Agatha
went down the passage.

The passage was very cold, a curtain swayed in an icy draught, and she
found the door of her room open. Stopping for a moment, she thought
there was somebody inside. This, however, might be a trick of her
imagination, and although she wanted to steal away, she knew that if she
did so she would lose her self-respect and the confidence she would need
for her journey to the North. She must brave real dangers in the wilds
and live among rude men. Besides, the pistol was on a table near the
door.

Somebody moved as she went in, for there was a rustle and a board
cracked, but her hand touched the pistol and she turned on the powerful
electric torch. As the beam of light swept across the room she saw that
the drawer of a small writing-table had been pulled out. Then the beam
passed on and touched a man kneeling beside her open trunk. The clothes
she had not unpacked were scattered on the floor, as if the man had been
looking for something, and a lantern stood near his hand. She thought he
had just put it out, since she noted a smell of oil.

Now she had found the intruder, she was less afraid than angry that he
had pulled about her clothes with his coarse, dirty hands. She knew him,
for he was the teamster she had seen in the orchard. The beam that
picked him out, however, left the rest of the room in gloom, and it was
hard to hold the torch steady.

"Light your lantern, but don't move from where you are," she said. "I
have a pistol."

He did as he was told, using an old-fashioned sulphur match that smelt
disagreeably but made no noise. The light spread and showed her standing
with the pistol in her hand, but when she risked a glance about, nothing
seemed to have been disturbed except the writing-table and her trunk.

"Now you may get up, but