only been a rat! Mary felt vastly relieved; and yet not
altogether easy. One could not venture to doubt the master, but it was
a queer-like sound for a rat to make.

Mr. Rattar had brought back a great many papers to-day, and sat
engrossed in them till dinner. After dinner he fell to work again, and
then about nine o'clock he rang for her and said:

"The gentleman I expect this evening will probably be late in coming.
Don't sit up. I'll hear him and let him in myself. We shall be working
late and I shall be going upstairs about those papers. If you hear
anybody moving about, it will only be this gentleman and myself."

This was rather a long speech for silent Simon, and Mary thought it
considerate of him to explain any nocturnal sounds beforehand; unusually
considerate, in fact, for he seldom went out of his way to explain
things. And yet those few minutes in his presence made her uncomfortable
afresh. She could not keep her eyes away from that red cut on his chin.
It made him seem odd-like, she thought. And then as she passed through
the hall she heard faintly from the upper regions that slate rattling
again. At least it was either the slate or--she recalled a story of her
childhood, and hurried on to the kitchen.

She and the cook shared the same bedroom. It was fairly large with two
beds in it, and along with the kitchen and other back premises it was
shut off from the front part of the house by a door at the end of the
hall. Cook was asleep within ten minutes. Mary could hear her heavy
breathing above the incessant droning and whistling of the wind, and she
envied her with all her Highland heart. In her own glen people would
have understood how she felt, but here she dared not confess lest she
were laughed at. It was such a vague and nameless feeling, a sixth sense
warning her that all was not well; that _something_ was in the air. The
longer she lay awake the more certain she grew that evil was afoot; and
yet what could be its shape? Everything in that quiet and respectable
household was going on exactly as usual; everything that any one else
would have considered material. The little things she had noticed would
be considered absurd trifles by the sensible. She knew that as well as
they.

She thought she had been in bed about an hour, though the time passed so
slowly that it might have been less, when she heard, faintly and gently,
but quite distinctly, the door from the hall into the back premises
being ope