was gone a white camelot cloak. The footman
near the outer entrance said none had passed since Lord Cedric's
arrival.

"But, my God! I have just arrived; who passed before?"

"Not one soul since nightfall, save the village doctor, your
Lordship."

Lord Cedric had enjoined perfect silence, fearing lest some noise
might disturb his Grace of Ellswold.

The lackeys bearing lighted tapers--behind them the young lord of the
castle, with the attendant Janet--moved solemnly like a procession.

They passed thus from room to corridor, from hall to gallery, and
through passages; examining secret exits and closets. They traversed
the long banquet-hall and were upon the threshold of a carved and
lofty doorway, when Janet espied upon the parquetry a cobweb bit of
lace protruding from beneath the tapestry of a chair. Lord Cedric's
keen eyes marked her movement as she essayed to reach it without his
notice. He turned quickly and fierce upon her, knocking his sword with
a loud noise upon the chair's carving.

"Give me thy treasure, Janet!" She gave it to him with something like
a sob; for 'twas her mistress' handkerchief, and she feared mightily
her lord's anger.

"Your Lordship! If it so turned out that she be holding some
_rendezvous_ with thy Russian guest--"

"Ah, 'sdeath!" he interrupted.

"I beg thou wilt forgive much, she being of such slender age and
knowing not the great wrong of clandestine--"

"Ah! ah! she holdeth court here in the chief butlery."

The door before them had been thrown open by the lackeys. They stood
upon either side for his Lordship to pass through. Beyond, framed in
the dark embrasure of the archway, stood Mistress Penwick in gleaming
white. Her hands behind her rested upon a table from which long leaves
depended to the floor, upon either side, her camelot cloak was thrown
carelessly upon the further end, its long fulness draping to the
floor, and in the centre of the polished top of the table rested a
tall, silver candlestick with lighted taper. Upon the hearthstone
there shot up a cheerful blaze, for the night was damp and chilly, and
the flickering light sent Mistress Penwick's hair first amber, then
bronze. Her face was still and white, and her eyes flashed wide and
boldly. Her heart beat high and her breath came fast and hard.

For a moment only his Lordship's glance fell upon her, then it swept
the room from end to end, and from ceiling to parquetry. Then occurred
a strange thing to th