ad of the excuse, folded my notes and stepped from the slightly raised
platform on to the floor.

"I am much obliged to you for coming," I said, "but I think that it is
quite useless to continue, for I can scarcely make you hear, and I am
not at all sure that the place is safe."

I spoke hastily, my one desire being to escape from the scene of my
humiliation unaccosted. One of my little audience, however, was of a
different mind. Rising quickly from one of the back seats, she barred
the way. Her broad comely face was full of mingled contrition and
sympathy.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Ducaine," she exclaimed. "It does seem a cruel
pity, doesn't it?--and such a beautiful lecture! I tried so hard to
persuade dad and the others to come, but you know how they all love
hearing anything about the war, and--"

"My dear Miss Moyat," I interrupted, "I am only sorry that a mistaken
sense of kindness should have brought you here. With one less in the
audience I think I should have ventured to suggest that we all went
round to hear Colonel Ray. I should like to have gone myself
immensely."

Blanche Moyat looked at me doubtfully.

"That's all very well," she declared, "but I think it's jolly mean of
the Duke to bring him down here the very night you were giving your
lecture."

"I do not suppose he knew anything about that," I answered. "In any
case, I can give my lecture again any time, but none of us may ever have
another opportunity of hearing Colonel Ray. Allow me--"

I opened the door, and a storm of sleet and spray stung our faces. Old
Pegg, who had been there to sell and collect tickets, shouted to us.

"Shut the door quick, master, or it'll be blown to smithereens. It's a
real nor'easter, and a bad 'un at that. Why, the missie'll hardly
stand. I'll see to the lights and lock up, Master Ducaine. Better be
getting hoam while thee can, for the creeks'll run full to-night."

Once out in the village street I was spared the embarrassment of
conversation. We had to battle the way step by step. We were drenched
with spray and the driving rain. The wind kept us breathless, mocking
any attempt at speech. We passed the village hall, brilliantly lit; the
shadowy forms of a closely packed crowd of people were dimly visible
through the uncurtained windows. I fancied that my companion's clutch
upon my arm tightened as we hurried past.

We reached a large grey stone house fronting the street. Miss Moyat
laid her hand upon the handle o