rs that flanked the building held nothing but staircases,
which could be entered by either of the two floors, and which ascended to
tiny rooms with windows on all four sides.

When Anthony had run over these details as he lay on his back, he pushed
up the stair over his face and let the front of it with the step of the
next swing inwards; the light was stronger now, and poured in, though
still dim, through three half-moon windows, glazed and wired, that just
rose above the level of the ground outside. Then he extricated himself,
closed the steps behind him, and went up the stairs.

The trap-door at the top was a little stiff, but he soon raised it, and
in a moment more was standing in the ground-floor room of the
garden-house. All round him was much as he remembered it; he first went
to the door and found it securely fastened, as it often was for days
together; he glanced at the windows to assure himself that they were
bottle-glass too, and then went to them to look out. He was fortunate
enough to find the corner of one pane broken away; he put his eye to
this, and there lay a little lawn, with a yew-hedge beyond blotting out
all of the great house opposite except the chimneys,--the house which
even across the whole space of garden hummed like a hive. On the lawn was
a chair, and an orange-bound book lay face down on the grass beside it.
Anthony stared at it; it was the book that he had seen in Isabel's hand
not half an hour ago, as she had gone out into the garden from the hall
to wait until he and Mary joined her with the lute.

And at that the priest knelt down before the window, covered his face
with his hands, and began to stammer and cry to God: "O God! God! God!"
he said.

* * * *

When Mary Corbet had seen Anthony's feet disappear, she already had the
outline of a plan in her mind. To light a fire and pretend to be burning
important papers would serve as an excuse for keeping the door fast; it
would also suggest at least that no one was in the chimney. The ordinary
wood, however, sent up sparks; but she had noticed before a little green
wood in the basket, and knew that this did not do so to the same extent;
so she pulled out the dry wood that Anthony had trodden into the ashes
and substituted the other. Then she had looked round for paper;--the lute
music, that was all. Meantime the door was giving; the noise outside was
terrible; and it was evident that one or