gone as mysteriously as he had come.

Peter knew that his employer would be anxious until he returned to him,
but he hadn't quite decided to tell McGuire of the housekeeper's share
in the adventure. He had a desire to verify his belief that Mrs. Bergen
was frightened by the visitor for a reason of her own which had nothing
to do with Jonathan McGuire. Any woman alarmed by a possible burglar or
other miscreant would have come running and crying for help. Mrs. Bergen
had been doggedly silent, as though, rather than utter her thoughts, she
would have bitten out her tongue. It was curious. She had seemed to be
talking as though to herself at the door, and then, at the sound of
footsteps in the kitchen behind her, had turned and fallen limp in the
nearest chair. The look in her face, as in McGuire's, was that of
terror, but there was something of bewilderment in both of them too,
like that of a solitary sniper in the first shock of a shrapnel wound, a
look of anguish that seemed to have no outlet, save in speech, which was
denied.

To tell McGuire what had happened in the kitchen meant to alarm him
further. Peter decided for the present to keep the matter from him,
giving the housekeeper the opportunity of telling the truth on the
morrow if she wished.

He crossed the kitchen and servants' dining-room and just at the foot of
the back stairs met Mrs. Bergen and Beth coming down. So he retraced his
steps into the kitchen, curious as to the meaning of her reappearance.

At least she had recovered the use of her tongue.

"I couldn't go to bed, just yet, Mr. Nichols," she said in reply to
Peter's question. "I just couldn't."

Peter gazed at her steadily. This woman held a clew to the mystery. She
glanced at him uncertainly but she had recovered her self-possession,
and her replies to his questions, if anything, were more obstinate than
before.

"I saw nothin', Mr. Nichols--nothin'. I was just a bit upset. I'm all
right now. An' I want Beth to go home. That's why I came down."

"But, Aunt Tillie, if you're not well, I'm going to stay----"

"No. Ye can't stay here. I want ye to go." And then, turning excitedly
to Peter, "Can't ye let somebody see her home, Mr. Nichols?"

"Of course," said Peter. "But I don't think she's in any danger."

"No, but she can't stay here. She just can't."

Beth put her arm around the old woman's shoulder.

"I'm not afraid."

Aunt Tillie was already untying Beth's apron.

"I know ye're