led, and smiling, fell asleep.

Margaret sat still for a time, listening to the breathing that grew
deeper and more regular as the minutes went on. She had brought her own
bed across the hall, meaning to sleep with Peggy, in case of her waking
in the night; though that was hardly likely. It was ten o'clock now, and
Rita was probably asleep. She would go down for a moment to see that all
was well, and perhaps have a word with Elizabeth, if she were not gone
to bed. She went softly to the door, and turned the handle noiselessly.
The door was locked!

Greatly startled, Margaret stood motionless for a few minutes, thinking
and listening. At first all was still. Footsteps above her
head,--Elizabeth was going to bed; then the familiar creak of the good
woman's bed; then silence again. Rita's room was across the hall, and
she could hear no sound from there. Through the open window came the
soft night noises: the dew dripping from the chestnut leaves, a little
sleepy wind stirring the branches, a nut falling to the ground. How
still!

Hark! did a twig snap then? Was some one moving through the shrubbery,
brushing gently against the leaves? And then, as her heart stood still
to listen, Margaret heard a low, musical whistle. She stole to the
window, and standing in the shadow of the curtain, looked out. A light
was burning in her room, and at first she could see nothing but
blackness outside. Gradually, the outlines of the great chestnut stole
out from the empty darkness, a hard black against the soft gloom of the
night. Then the shrubbery behind; and then--was something moving there?
Were those two figures standing by the tree?

The whistle was repeated; and now Margaret heard the swift rustle of
silk brushing against her door, then fluttering from baluster to
baluster, as Rita sped down the stairs. A door opening softly, and now
three figures stood under the chestnut-tree. Words were whispered,
greetings exchanged; then the three figures stole away into the
blackness.

Margaret felt helpless for a moment. Locked in,--her cousin asleep here,
exhausted if not ill, and needing absolute quiet,--and going on
downstairs--what? She must know! She must call John Strong, and warn
him that her fears were realised, and that unwelcome visitors were
already at the doors of Fernley, perhaps already within. But how was it
possible? She ran to the window and looked down. Full twenty feet! To
jump was impossible; even Peggy could not have