s he spoke. Only the mocking reverberations of it remained
even in his memory, but he had no doubt of the original voice. He
had no doubt that the great bull's voice of Francis Bray, Baron
Bulmer, had been heard for the last time between the darkness and
the lifting dawn.

How long he stood there he never knew, but he was startled into life
by the first living thing that he saw stirring in that half-frozen
landscape. Along the path beside the lake, and immediately under his
window, a figure was walking slowly and softly, but with great
composure--a stately figure in robes of a splendid scarlet; it was
the Italian prince, still in his cardinal's costume. Most of the
company had indeed lived in their costumes for the last day or two,
and Fisher himself had assumed his frock of sacking as a convenient
dressing gown; but there seemed, nevertheless, something unusually
finished and formal, in the way of an early bird, about this
magnificent red cockatoo. It was as if the early bird had been up
all night.

"What is the matter?" he called, sharply, leaning out of the window,
and the Italian turned up his great yellow face like a mask of
brass.

"We had better discuss it downstairs," said Prince Borodino.

Fisher ran downstairs, and encountered the great, red-robed figure
entering the doorway and blocking the entrance with his bulk.

"Did you hear that cry?" demanded Fisher.

"I heard a noise and I came out," answered the diplomatist, and his
face was too dark in the shadow for its expression to be read.

"It was Bulmer's voice," insisted Fisher. "I'll swear it was
Bulmer's voice."

"Did you know him well?" asked the other.

The question seemed irrelevant, though it was not illogical, and
Fisher could only answer in a random fashion that he knew Lord
Bulmer only slightly.

"Nobody seems to have known him well," continued the Italian, in
level tones. "Nobody except that man Brain. Brain is rather older
than Bulmer, but I fancy they shared a good many secrets."

Fisher moved abruptly, as if waking from a momentary trance, and
said, in a new and more vigorous voice, "But look here, hadn't we
better get outside and see if anything has happened."

"The ice seems to be thawing," said the other, almost with
indifference.

When they emerged from the house, dark stains and stars in the gray
field of ice did indeed indicate that the frost was breaking up, as
their host had prophesied the day before, and the very memory