g the clothes silently up to
his very eyes. The moonlight had shifted just a little, and no
longer illumined his face. That was now in shadow, and would scarce
reveal the fact that he was awake. He lay perfectly still, scarce
daring to draw his breath, and the next moment a strange thing
happened.

The whole of one of the great carved pillars that supported the
high mantle shelf swung noiselessly forward, and stood out at right
angles to the wall. From where he lay Bertram could not see, but he
could well understand that when this was done a narrow doorway had
been revealed, and the next moment a shadowy figure glided with
noiseless steps into the room.

The figure was poorly clad in a doublet of serge much the worse for
wear, and the moonlight showed a strangely haggard face and soiled
and torn raiment. Yet there was an air of dignity about the
mysterious visitor which showed to the astonished boy that he must
at some time have been in better circumstances, and lying quite
still Bertram watched his movements with breathless attention.

With a quick, scared glance round him, as though afraid that even
the silence might be the silence of treachery, the gaunt figure
advanced with covert eagerness across the floor, leaving the door
wide open behind him, as if to be ready for him should he desire to
fly; and precipitating himself upon a ewer of cold water standing
upon the floor, he drank and drank and drank as though he would
never cease.

Plainly he was consumed by the most raging thirst. Bertram had
never seen anything but an exhausted horse after a burning summer's
chase in the forest drink in such a fashion. And as he watched, all
fear left him in a moment, for certainly no phantom could drink dry
this great ewer of spring water; and if he had only a creature of
flesh and blood to deal with, why, then there was certainly no
cause for fear.

In place of dread and terror, a great pity welled up in the
generous heart of the boy. He had all the hatred for oppression and
the chivalrous desire to help the oppressed that seem born in the
hearts of the sons of British birth. Who and what manner of man
this was he did not know; but he was evidently some poor hunted
creature, going in very fear of his life, and as such the boy
pitied him from the very ground of his heart, and would gladly have
helped him had he known how.

He lay for a few moments wondering and pondering. Certainly his
father was no foe to any man. He