m coming up and all that. Hi,
Penelope!" he shouted in his most vociferous treble. The shrieking
wind replied. Then the three of them shouted her name. "Gad, she may
be lost or dead or--Come on, Barminster. We must scour the whole
demmed valley." They were off again, moving more cautiously while the
duke threw the light from his lamp into the leafy shadows beside
the roadway. The wind was blowing savagely down the slope and
the raindrops were beginning to beat in their faces with ominous
persistency. Some delay was caused by an accident to the rear-guard. A
mighty gust of wind blew the count's hat far back over the travelled
road. He was so much nearer Bazelhurst Villa when they found it that
he would have kept on in that direction for the sake of his warm bed
had not his companions talked so scornfully about cowardice.

"He's like a wildcat to-night," said the duke in an aside to the
little Frenchman, referring to his lordship. "Demme, I'd rather not
cross him. You seem to forget that his sister is out in all this
fury."

"Mon Dieu, but I do not forget. I would gif half my life to hold her
in my arms thees eenstan'."

"Dem you, sir, I'd give her the other half if you dared try such a
thing. We didn't fetch you along to hold her. You've got to hold the
horses, that's all."

"Diable! How dare you to speak to--"

"What are you two rowing about?" demanded his lordship. "Come along!
We're, losing time. Sit on your hat, Deveaux."

Away they swept, Penelope's two admirers wrathfully barking at one
another about satisfaction at some future hour.

The storm burst upon them in all its fury--the maddest, wildest storm
they had known in all their lives. Terrified, half drowned, blown
almost from the saddles, the trio finally found shelter in the lee of
a shelving cliff just off the road. While they stood there shivering,
clutching the bits of their well-nigh frantic horses, the glimmer of
lights came down to them from windows farther up the steep. There
was no mistaking the three upright oblongs of light; they were tall
windows in the house, the occupants of which doubtless had been
aroused at this unearthly hour by the fierceness of the storm.

"By Jove," lamented the duke, water running down his neck in floods.
"What a luxury a home is, be it ever so humble, on a night like this."

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" groaned the count. "How comfortab' zey look. And
here? _Eh bien! Qui fait trembler la terre!_ I am seeck! I die!"