that some one had been cut from ear to ear. Then I remembered
that they had told me that rowdy parties were often boating on the water
above the first dam, as the weather grew warmer, and when I listened and
heard no sound of any one else in the house stirring, I began to think
that my half-sleepy ears had exaggerated the sounds. And then, just as I
was about to close the window, a cloud rolled off the moon, and for a
second or two there was a great bath of light on the slope, and back of
the stable, among the old gnarled apple trees. There were a lot of queer
looking shadows among these trees, too, but none so queer as one.

This one shadow was different, for it was not still like the others, but
went stopping and starting and scuttling like a crab over the
grass--sometimes upright like a man and sometimes on all fours like a
beast. At last it stood up and ran from tree to tree in a swaying,
moving zigzag. I could see then that it was a man, but for the life of
me I could not remember where I'd seen his like. Then another cloud slid
over the moon and the night was as dark as velvet again.

You may be sure I passed a restless night. Perhaps the Judge saw it, for
when he came in from his regular early morning walk the next day,
looking very grave and solemn and troubled, he stared at me a minute
before he spoke.

"Margaret," said he, "you look overworked."

"Oh, no, sir," I said, half ashamed to tell of my fright.

"I'm glad to hear you say so," he answered. "I was about to ask you
whether you could add to your duties by taking full charge of Julianna."

"The baby!" said I. "Has anything happened to Mrs. Colfax?"

"No," he said, a bit excited, "but I'm going to send her away to-day. I
trust it will be soon enough. The doctor has been advising it this long
time. Mrs. Colfax is on the edge of nervous prostration, and the baby
should be taken from her now and put in your care while she is gone."

I think I must have shrunk back from him. I remembered the screams. I
could hear them again in my ears--terrible, terrible screams--at the
river.

"While she is gone!" I whispered.

"Yes," said he. "What ails you? You have heard the plan before."

"But the haste, sir," I said. "What is this dreadful hurry about?"

"Not so loud," said he. "You will hear the news soon enough. I may as
well tell you. But it must be kept from her at any cost until she is
away. A dreadful thing has happened--happened in the night,--not two