me to the
front, and she was very uncertain about it. Suddenly, however, something
happened about which she could not be in the least uncertain. Above
Olive's room was a chamber appropriated to the use of bachelor visitors,
and from the window of this room now burst upon the night a wild,
unearthly chant. It was a song with words but without music, and the
voice in which it was shot out into the darkness was harsh, was shrill,
was insolently blatant. And thus the clamorous singer sang:

"My angel maid--ahoy!
If aught should you annoy,
By act or sound,
From sky or ground,
I then pray thee
To call on me
My angel maid--ahoy,
My ange--my ange--l maid
Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy!"

The music of the guitar now ceased, and no French words were heard. No
ditty of Latin origin, be it ever so melodious and fervid, could stand
against such a wild storm of Anglo-Saxon vociferation. Every ahoy rang
out as if sea captains were hailing each other in a gale!

"What lungs he has" thought Mrs. Easterfield, as she put her hand over
her mouth so that no one should hear her laugh. At the open window, at
which she still steadily gazed, she now felt sure she saw something
white which moved, but it did not come to the front.

A wave of half-smothered objurgation now rolled up from below; it was
not to be readily caught, but its tone indicated rage and
disappointment. But the guitar had ceased to sound, and the French love
song was heard no more. A little irrepressible laugh came from
somewhere, but who heard it beside herself Mrs. Easterfield could not
know. Then all was still, and the insects of the night, and the tree
frogs, had the stage to themselves.

Early in the morning Miss Raleigh presented herself before Mrs.
Easterfield to make a report. "There was a serenade last night," she
said, "not far from Miss Asher's window. In fact, there were two, but
one of them came from Mr. Locker's room, and was simply awful. Mr. Du
Brant was the gentleman who sang from the lawn, and I was very sorry
when he felt himself obliged to stop. I do not think very much of him,
but he certainly has a pleasant voice, and plays well on the guitar. I
think he must have been a good deal cut up by being interrupted in that
dreadful way, for he grumbled and growled, and did not go into the
house for some time. I am sure he would have been very glad to fight if
any one had come down."

"You mean," said Mrs. Easterf