t the wintry blast when
the answer came from the stairway just above:

"She is gone!"

The voice was shrill and despairing, and looking up they saw Diana
standing dramatically posed upon the landing, her hands clasped over her
heart and a look of fear upon her face. Over her shoulder the startled
black eyes of old Cerise peered down upon the group below.

The newcomers were evidently bewildered by this reception. They had come
to rescue Louise, whom they imagined confined in a lonely deserted villa
with no companion other than the woman who guarded her. Arthur's own
detective opened the door to them and Diana Von Taer, whom they
certainly did not expect to meet here, confronted them with the
thrilling statement that Louise had gone.

Arthur was the first to recover his wits.

"Gone!" he repeated; "gone where?"

"She had escaped--run away!" explained Diana, in real distress.

"When?" asked Uncle John.

"Just now. Within an hour, wasn't it, Cerise?"

"At ten o'clock I left her, now she is gone," said the old woman, who
appeared as greatly agitated as her mistress.

"Good gracious! you don't mean to say she's left the house in this
storm?" exclaimed Patsy, aghast at the very thought.

"What shall we do? What _can_ we do?" demanded Beth, eagerly.

Fogerty started up the stairs. Cerise turned to show him the way, and
the others followed in an awed group.

The key was in the lock of the door to the missing girl's room, but the
door itself now stood ajar. Fogerty entered, cast a sharp look around
and walked straight to the window. As the others came in, glancing
curiously about them and noting the still smouldering fire and the
evidences of recent occupation, the detective unlatched the French
window and stepped out into the snow that covered the roof of the little
porch below. Arthur sprang out beside him, leaving the rest to shiver in
the cold blast that rushed in upon them from the open window.

Fogerty, on his knees, scanned the snow carefully, and although Weldon
could discover no sign of a footprint the young detective nodded his
head sagaciously and slowly made his way to the trellis at the end. Here
it was plain that the accumulation of snow had recently been brushed
away from the frail framework. "It was strong enough to hold her,
though," declared Fogerty, looking over the edge of the roof. "I'll
descend the same way, sir. Go back by the stairs and meet me below."

He grasped the lattice and began