minutes, when suddenly her eyes unclosed in spite of
her, just as if they were worked by a spring, and she was as wide
awake as ever. At least so she fancied the first instant, but the
next she thought she must be dreaming. There had been no
sound--nothing but Nesta's regular breathing--and yet at the other
side of the room, standing with his back towards her, was the
figure of a man.

Her first impulse was to call out, her second prompted caution, and
she pinched herself hard to make sure whether she was awake or
not. There was no doubt about it--she was not asleep; the pinch
hurt considerably, and the man was still there. He was apparently
examining the things on her dressing-table minutely, and she
guessed he was looking for valuables. Knowing the story of the dark
visitor who had frightened every one so before her arrival, Miss
Chase had followed the general rule and left nothing of any value
lying about, though no one thought a thief would venture into the
house now that it was so full. Here he certainly was, however, and
the question was, "What ought she to do?"

Miss Chase lay absolutely still, her heart beating to suffocation,
her mind working rapidly. There was no saying that this was the
same man. He might be of a much more desperate and vicious
character. Had she been alone she might have risked screaming for
help, but there was also Nesta to be considered; she dared not
expose the child to a knock on the head to silence her.

The man took a slow tour of the room, peering into nooks and
corners in a stealthy, silent way that was most eerie to watch.
Miss Chase bore it until at last he went towards Nesta's bed with
that cat-like, sinister gait. The horror of his approaching the
helpless sleeper at the other side of the room was too much for the
girl's strained nerves. His back was towards her; he fancied her
asleep. Slipping her hand under her pillow she drew out a small
revolver, then sat up softly and took careful aim. There was a
report, a howl of fear and pain, and the man turned to gaze wildly
round the room. Nesta sprang from her bed with a terrified yell and
rushed to her aunt, who sat, still pointing her weapon at the
intruder, with a look of grim determination in her eyes.

With a heavy groan the man started towards the window, limping
pitifully. He disappeared out on to the veranda, leaving a trail of
blood across the uncarpeted floor.

"Now go for your father," said Miss Chase, giving the tr