s sky. As he
watched, Jim came out to him to tell him that his father was in
the kitchen. 'I'll come directly, Jim,' he said.

The piccanin was sent off to get water, the kitchen door was
safely locked. The throwing of the bones began, while Julian
watched with understanding eyes. His hard grip of his subjects,
generally, extended to this remote ritual.

To-night the answer seemed to be inconclusive, but as they sought
the answer, a clear sign appeared as it were by the way, and
unsought. Julian was watching haggardly. He snarled a question at
Jim. His cook-boy's big round eyes showed very big and very round
just now. He was watching with painful intentness.

'Yes,' he answered his master, 'Yes, sir, it is so.'

Julian whistled and turned away moodily, with his hands in his
pockets, staring into space.

The old man the diviner was talking at large as he gathered the
fingers of wood with their rude traceries together. Julian paid
little heed to his words and gesticulations when he awoke from
his day-dream.

'Give him some skoff and a bit of meat, Jim,' he said. 'Tell him
I'll give him ten bob when I've got change.'

The old man was clamoring to him to make up his money to a
sovereign, but Julian paid no heed to what he said. He swung out
of the hut and off to wash for dinner, still brooding moodily.

At dinner. Tommy Bates found Julian the reverse of good company.
He did not keep his gloom to himself, and he snapped at any
excuse for snapping. Tommy left as the sweets came in, with an
excuse about meeting some friends at 8:30.

'Don't be late,' said Julian peremptorily. 'I want you here at
eleven sharp. I want to see about tomorrow's letters before I go
to bed.'

At 8:30 a pink note came in with the coffee. Mrs. Puce had sent
it down. It contained but a few lines:

DEAR JULIAN,

I'm so sorry, but I couldn't make head nor tail of the answer.
What I was told clearly was that you were likely to be in some
trouble to-night about midnight. I don't know what sort of
trouble, but somebody who lives at the back of your house may
have something to do with it. Do take care of yourself. I trust
you to do that for my sake. I think you are sensible enough to do
it, now you are forewarned. Come up to-morrow to breakfast and
reassure me,

Yours, in ever so much of a shudder,

CELIA.

Julian turned rather green as he read. 'I don't like it,' he
growled, 'Two signs, and independent ones. The one sign death. I
saw