tell you the truth, I did see him--right here at the head of the trail.
He had his back to the light so I couldn't make out any mask. Er--what
made you think of ghosts?"

"Because I had such a creepy feeling when I saw him. Didn't you?"

"Humph. For a moment, perhaps."

"Did you pass each other after you met?"

"Why--why-- Confound it--_no_! He just _disappeared_!"

"Gosh!" said Miss Copley fervently. "Simon, it _was_ a spook! I know
it was! Have you ever seen or heard of a monk around here before?"

"N-no. But that doesn't mean anything. There's no law that says they
can't travel if they want to."

"But what would a monk be doing on a private path through this
property? Why should he disappear from people? Why should he wear a
mask? Monks don't wear masks." She reflected a moment. "Come to
think of it, he wasn't dressed exactly like a monk--Simon! did you
ever see a picture of those creatures of the Spanish Inquisition?
'Familiars' I think they used to call them. They dressed that way and
wore masks!"

"Humph." Despite that skeptic snort, Varr was conscious of a nervous
chill. "You've been drinking too much coffee, Ocky! Indigestion!"

"_Oh_!" cried Miss Copley suddenly. She raised herself on an elbow and
looked all about her on the ground. "Oh--_pshaw_!"

"Eh? What is it?"

"Coffee! Your mentioning it just reminded me! I was coming back from
a walk and I stopped at Wimpelheimer's to get a pound of it--I knew it
was needed at the house. Now it's gone! I must have dropped it when
that creature frightened me." She looked woebegone. "It's not very
far back, but I'm so tired!"

"Are you?" repeated Varr restlessly.

"You'll get it for me, won't you, Simon?" She regarded him
appealingly. "Oh--please!"

He got up from the rock and glanced at her with marked distaste. His
gaze traveled to the dark entrance of the trail, came back to rest
briefly on the consoling cabbages, went again to the trail. He took an
irresolute, halting step--and then was struck by an inspiration that
cleared his brow as if by magic.

"What do I keep a houseful of idle servants for?" he demanded crisply.
"Let Bates hunt it up--he'd better take a torch."

"Simon--you're _scared_!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Anyway, it's going to storm. I felt a drop of
rain a moment ago. Come along to the house and stop your nonsense
about monks and familiars and--and ghosts!"

Perhaps the last word came out a litt