"What is it?"

"That monk--! I could have sworn--! Over there by the big silver
birch--! I can't see him now. Can you make out anything?"

Side by side they leaned from the window, striving to accustom their
eyes to the starlit night. A long minute passed.

"I must have been mistaken." Miss Ocky drew a long breath. "A shadow
from a swaying bough--or imagination."

"There isn't wind enough to sway a twig!" he corrected curtly. He
lingered a while longer, his angry gaze continuing to search the
darkness, before he drew back into the room. "It's quite likely you
saw him," he muttered. "No doubt he saw you, too, and heard you--and
has slunk off with his tail between his legs!" He half made to pull
down the sash, then contemptuously refrained. "I'd like to get my
hands on him!" His fingers curled longingly.

After a moment's hesitation, she accepted his dismissal of the subject.
She stepped back and confronted him.

"To return, then--divorce, Simon?"

"Never!" He fairly barked it.

"I know of just one thing to your credit, Simon," said Miss Ocky rather
sadly, rather dully. "You do mean what you say. I must accept your
decision as--final."

"You must!" The interlude had braced him. "And--what are you going to
do about it?"

She shrugged her shoulders, looked at him with expressionless
eyes--turned and walked quickly from the room. His sharp, sardonic
laugh followed her down the hall.

"Another false alarm!"

He threw himself into his chair, mopping his brow. Some ten minutes
went by before a thought occurred to him that was fortuitously
anticipated by the sudden appearance of the old butler.

"That decanter of Bourbon, Bates! Then go to bed."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

History repeated itself. He drank two glasses of the fiery liquor in
swift succession. As he did so it rather staggered him to reflect that
barely twenty-four hours had elapsed since he had stood there the night
before, doing the same thing. Gad--what a day! Last night that monk
had interrupted him--

That monk! He muttered the words. Had Ocky really seen him? Was he
loose again on some fresh errand of crime? Had he been frightened away
by their appearance at the window? Had he been frightened away
_permanently_?

On the spur of a swift impulse, born perhaps of the whisky, he reached
up quickly and extinguished the solitary lamp. The room was instantly
plunged into darkness, through which he groped h