eve it was poison you
found in your tea. But if it was, it was intended for one of the heirs."

"Well, there's some consolation in that," said Deppy, smiling for the
first time. "It's annoying, however, to go about feeling all the time
that one is likely to pass away because some stupid ass of an assassin
makes a blunder in giving--"

The sharp rattle of firearms in the distance brought a sudden stop to
his lugubrious reflections. Five, a dozen--a score of shots were heard.
The blood turned cold in the veins of every one in the garden; faces
blanched suddenly and all voices were hushed; a form of paralysis seized
and held them for a full minute.

Then the voice of Britt below broke harshly upon the tense, still air:
"Good God! Look! It is the bungalow!"

A bright glow lighted the dark mountain side, a vivid red painted the
trees; the smell of burning wood came down with the breezes. Two or
three sporadic shots were borne to the ears of those who looked toward
the blazing bungalow.

"They've killed Chase!" burst from the stiff lips of Bobby Browne.

"Damn them!" came up from below in Britt's hoarse voice.

CHAPTER XIX

CHASE COMES FROM THE CLOUDS

For many minutes, the watchers in the chateau stared at the burning
bungalow, fascinated, petrified. Through the mind of each man ran the
sudden, sharp dread that Chase had met death at the hands of his
enemies, and yet their stunned sensibilities refused at once to grasp
the full horror of the tragedy.

Genevra felt her heart turn cold; then something seemed to clutch her by
the throat and choke the breath out of her body. Through her brain went
whirling the recollection of his last words to her that afternoon:
"They'll find me ready if they come for trouble." She wondered if he had
been ready for them or if they had surprised him! She had heard the
shots. Chase could not have fired them all. He may have fired
once--perhaps twice--that was all! The fusilade came from the guns of
many, not one. Was he now lying dead in that blazing--She screamed aloud
with the thought of it!

"Can't something be done?" she cried again and again, without taking her
gaze from the doomed bungalow. She turned fiercely upon Bobby Browne,
his countryman. Afterward she recalled that he stood staring as she had
stared, Lady Deppingham clasping his arm with both of her hands. The
glance also took in the face of Deppingham. He was looking at his wife
and his eyes were wide and glass