nto Hell. I am going to have something more to drink. Nothing
seems to make any difference to me to-night. I can't even get excited,
although we must have drunk a bottle of wine each. We'll have some
brandy. Here goes!"

He filled a wine-glass and passed the bottle to Cecil.

"You're about in the same state," he remarked, looking at him keenly.
"Why the devil is it that when one doesn't require it, wine will go to
the head too quickly, and when one wants to use it to borrow a little
courage and a little forgetfulness, the stuff goes down like water.
Drink, Cecil, a wine-glass of it. Drink it off, like this."

Forrest drained his wine-glass and set it down. Then he rose to his
feet. His cheeks were still colourless, but there was an added glitter
in his eyes.

"Come, young man," he said, "you have only to fancy that you are one of
your own ancestors. I fancy those dark-looking ruffians, who scowl down
on us from the walls there, would not have thought so much of flinging
an enemy into the sea. It is a wise man who wrote that
self-preservation was the first law of nature. Come, Cecil, remember
that. It is the first law of nature that we are obeying. Ring the bell
first, and see that there are no servants about the place."

Cecil obeyed, ringing the bell once or twice. No one came. They stepped
out into the hall. The emptiness of the house seemed almost apparent.
There was not a sound anywhere.

"The servants' wing is right over the stables, a long way off," Cecil
remarked. "They could never hear a bell there that rang from any of the
living-rooms."

Forrest nodded.

"So much the better," he said. "Come along to the library. I have
everything ready there."

They crossed the hall and entered the room to which Forrest pointed.
Their footsteps seemed to awake echoes upon the stone floor. The hall,
too, was all unlit save for the lamp which Forrest was carrying. Cecil
peered nervously about into the shadows.

"It's a ghostly house this of yours," Forrest said grumblingly, as they
closed the door behind them. "I shall be thankful to get back to my
rooms in town and walk down Piccadilly once more. What's that outside?"

"The wind," Cecil answered. "I thought it was going to be a rough
night."

The window had been left open at the top, and the roar of the wind
across the open places came into the room like muffled thunder. The
lamp which Forrest carried was blown out, and the two men were left in
darkness.

"Shu