e, presumably his wife. These impressive ancestors rested on
pedestals of Sienna marble.

Elinor Marshall found no words to express her amazement. She stood in
silence, her eyes, in a sort of bewilderment, moving rapidly about the
room. At last in a low, awe-struck voice she said:

"Have you no idea what it all means?"

"None whatever. But I am sure of one thing, that it has nothing to do
with Boyd's Island. If such a house as this were anywhere within reach
of my sisters, they surely would have mentioned it."

"Oh, surely!"

"It being off here in the wilderness is what takes one's breath away."

"I can't understand it--or even quite believe it yet." Then forgetting
herself for an instant, she added, impulsively: "Why, just now I closed
my eyes and was surprised, when I opened them again, to find it still
here."

"Yes; I expect an old woman with a hook nose to wave a stick and have
the whole thing vanish."

As their eyes met she almost smiled. For this lapse of duty to her
church and to herself, however, she atoned at once by a sudden
frigidity. Turning away she studied a huge tapestry that hung on their
left as they entered. This tapestry extended almost across the room,
forming a screen to a chamber behind.

"That is a bedroom," said Pats. "I looked in," and he drew aside the
tapestry that she might enter. She shook her head and stepped back. But
in spite of her respect for the owner's privacy, and before she could
avert her eyes, she caught a hasty glimpse of a monumental bed with
hangings of faded silk between its massive columns; of two portraits on
the walls and an ivory crucifix. This glance at the bedroom served to
increase her uneasiness. Moving toward a table that stood near the
centre of the room she turned, and regarding Pats with the lofty,
far-away air which never failed to congeal his courage, she asked:

"Where do you think we are? How far from your house?"

"I have not the remotest idea. It is hard to guess. But I have a
suspicion--"

He hesitated. "Suppose I go out and make another effort to find these
people." And he started for the door.

"What is your suspicion?"

He stopped in obvious uncertainty as to his reply. Looking away through
the open door, he said: "Oh, nothing--except that we are not where we
want to be."

"Well, what else?"

Pats met her glance and saw that she was becoming distrustful. Standing
with one hand upon the ancient table, with the tapestries and busts
beh