just
visible, but it was very dark indeed under their shade.

"The light seemed to be going through the shrubbery towards the arbour,"
said Lindsay, feeling her way along the rose avenue.

"There it is!" replied Cicely, as a faint gleam shone in the distance.

"We must be very, very careful," said Lindsay, "not to disturb them on
any account. We must stop somewhere near, and just look and listen."

As quietly as ghosts they stole down the path, trying not to rustle so
much as a leaf. They were close now to the lantern. They could see it
quite clearly, set on the ground, and two figures bending over it.

Skirting round under the bushes, they reached the shelter of an oak tree
that grew on the side of a bank, and peeped cautiously round the trunk.
Yes, it was certainly Scott and Mrs. Wilson who were in the shrubbery
below. Every now and then a glint of light revealed their faces
unmistakably. They were talking together in low tones, unfortunately too
low for their conversation to be overheard. Scott held a spade in his
hand, and was stooping to watch Mrs. Wilson, who, kneeling on the grass,
was fumbling inside a large sack.

"Can you see if she's counting money?" breathed Cicely into Lindsay's
ear. "I believe they're going to bury it."

"It looks like something bigger and heavier," whispered Lindsay, trying
to crane her neck farther forward.

"Is it silver plate?"

"It might be anything in that huge sack."

"Oh! Not a body!"

I believe Cicely would have fled precipitately if Lindsay had not held
her tightly by the hand. The fear that old Sir Giles Courtenay was being
finally disposed of oppressed her like a nightmare.

"No! I expect it's the treasure. We must notice exactly where they're
putting it."

[Illustration: AN UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENT]

Lindsay took a step nearer, to gain a better view of the proceedings,
but as she did so her foot trod noisily on a dead twig.

"What's that?"

The question was in "The Griffin's" well-known voice.

There was a growl in reply from Scott.

"Best take a look, anyhow," came from Mrs. Wilson.

Scott seized the lantern, and began to flash it round in every
direction. Then, oh horrors! he walked straight towards the oak where
the two girls were hiding. Nearly paralysed with fear, they did not dare
to run away, and could only hope that, after all, under cover of the
darkness, he might chance to overlook them.

In her desperation, Lindsay tried to draw farther behind t