her meaning just what she said. Keith
stood still thinking very hard. Here was another memory that he could
not remember at all. There was not a trace of it left in his mind, and
yet it must have happened. It sounded exciting, too, and he wished to
know all about it.

"You had better close the door," his mother suggested.

"All right," said Keith, hastening to close the door from the outside
and make a dive for the stairway. There would be plenty of time to ask
about the loss of his coat later. He was halfway down the first flight
when he heard the kitchen door open behind him, and his heart leapt into
his throat.

"You must go down the stairs quietly," his mother called out from above,
whereupon Keith's heart resumed its normal position.

He descended the rest of that flight on tip-toe. The second one was
taken more rapidly, and down the last one he went two steps at a time,
the little iron plates under his heels hitting the stones with a ring
that echoed through the old house.

In the lane he found them loading a dray in front of the distillery, and
he started across to watch the men straining at the next barrel. He had
hardly taken a step in that direction, however, when a loud pop was
heard from the black cave forming the entrance to the distillery. It
was followed first by a single cry, and then by a hubbub of voices. A
second later a young man came running out and threw himself prone into
the gutter, where a trickle of water was to be seen.

Keith was too astonished to be frightened at once. He could not
understand what made the man act in this way. Then another man came out
in a rush and began to beat the legs of the man in the gutter with his
hands, and Keith suddenly noticed that little blue flames were dancing
up and down the grimy leathern trousers of the first man.

The memory of the night when the church burned leaped into his mind,
making him turn instinctively toward the passageway and his
mother's lap.

At that moment a third man appeared carrying a big tank full of water
which he poured over the man in the gutter. The latter got on his feet
and limped back into the distillery, supported by his two comrades.

Keith was left behind, trembling a little and gazing curiously at the
hanging head of the dray-horse which had not made the slightest movement
during the previous excitement.

"He'll have to go to bed," said a sleepy voice at his shoulder just
then.

Keith swung around as if touched b