e, and
the silver mines of their pretended destination held all its treasures
unmolested for any pick or shovel of their wielding.

VII.

The discovery of the catastrophe came late to the inmates of the bungalow
on the crag. The suave resplendent sunset drew slowly to a majestic
close. The color deepened and glowed in the red west, even while the moon
made speed to climb the eastern mountains. Long burnished silver shafts
were all aslant in the woods, the dense autumnal foliage still visibly
russet and yellow, before Mrs. Briscoe came out on the veranda where
Bayne lounged in the swing, although no longer able to scan the pages of
the magazine in his hand.

"Don't you think it is odd that Ned is so late?" she asked.

"I don't know his habit," he rejoined carelessly. "But it is almost as
light as day in the road."

"He is usually so particular about detaining the servants," she said
uneasily, evidently a bit disconcerted. "Dinner has been ready to serve
for nearly an hour."

She returned indoors after a little, but Bayne still swung languidly to
and fro, all unprescient of the impending disclosure. Presently he
glanced through the window of the hall near at hand, noting how the tints
of the pretty gowns of the two women now before the fire imparted a rich
pictorial effect to the interior, the one costume being of a canary tint,
with bretelles and girdle of brown velvet, while Mrs. Briscoe's striking
beauty was accentuated by the artistic blending of two blues. In the
interval, while his attention was diverted from the scene without, a
change had supervened there, and he experienced a sudden disquieting
monition as he observed that the groom, who had been hovering in the road
at some distance, had been joined by another stable-man, and that the
butler, easily distinguishable from the others in the gathering gloom by
his white shirt front, was swiftly crossing the lawn toward them. Bayne
sprang from the swing, leaped silently from the veranda into the grass,
and walked quickly toward the group. They had already descried his
approach, and eagerly met him half way--in a state verging on panic, he
found to his own fright and dismay.

Something had happened, they averred. Mr. Briscoe was never late like
this. He had too much consideration for his household. He would not risk
occasioning Mrs. Briscoe anxiety. He would not keep little Archie out in
the night air--he was very parti