a mess of matting.
Unfortunately his head was in the vicinity of some upturned pot-plants,
so that a cactus ticked his brow and a spike of aloe supported
painfully the back of his neck. Heritage was prone behind two old
water-butts, and Dougal was in a hamper which had once contained seed
potatoes. The house door had panels of opaque glass, so the new-comer
could not see the doings of the three till it was opened, and by that
time all were in cover.

The man--it was Spittal--walked rapidly along the verandah and out of
the garden door. He was talking to himself again, and Dickson, who had
a glimpse of his face, thought he looked both evil and furious. Then
came some anxious moments, for had the man glanced back when he was
once outside, he must have seen the tell-tale ladder. But he seemed
immersed in his own reflections, for he hobbled steadily along the
house front till he was lost to sight.

"That'll be the end o' them the day," said Dougal, as he helped
Heritage to pull up the ladder and stow it away. "We've got the place
to oursels, now. Forward, men, forward." He tried the handle of the
House door and led the way in.

A narrow paved passage took them into what had once been the garden
room, where the lady of the house had arranged her flowers, and the
tennis racquets and croquet mallets had been kept. It was very dusty,
and on the cobwebbed walls still hung a few soiled garden overalls. A
door beyond opened into a huge murky hall, murky, for the windows were
shuttered, and the only light came through things like port-holes far
up in the wall. Dougal, who seemed to know his way about, halted them.
"Stop here till I scout a bit. The women bide in a wee room through
that muckle door." Bare feet stole across the oak flooring, there was
the sound of a door swinging on its hinges, and then silence and
darkness. Dickson put out a hand for companionship and clutched
Heritage's; to his surprise it was cold and all a-tremble. They
listened for voices, and thought they could detect a far-away sob.

It was some minutes before Dougal returned. "A bonny kettle o' fish,"
he whispered. "They're both greetin'. We're just in time. Come on,
the pair o' ye."

Through a green baize door they entered a passage which led to the
kitchen regions, and turned in at the first door on their right. From
its situation Dickson calculated that the room lay on the seaward side
of the House next to the verandah. The light was