come out with me to-night to watch for--"

"Poachers, Colonel?" he said, a gleam of pleasure running all over him.

"No, Bagley; a great deal worse," I cried.

"Yes, Colonel; at what hour, sir?" the man said; but then I had not told
him what it was.

It was ten o'clock when we set out. All was perfectly quiet indoors. My
wife was with Roland, who had been quite calm, she said, and who (though,
no doubt, the fever must run its course) had been better ever since I
came. I told Bagley to put on a thick greatcoat over his evening coat,
and did the same myself, with strong boots; for the soil was like a
sponge, or worse. Talking to him, I almost forgot what we were going to
do. It was darker even than it had been before, and Bagley kept very
close to me as we went along. I had a small lantern in my hand, which
gave us a partial guidance. We had come to the corner where the path
turns. On one side was the bowling-green, which the girls had taken
possession of for their croquet-ground,--a wonderful enclosure surrounded
by high hedges of holly, three hundred years old and more; on the other,
the ruins. Both were black as night; but before we got so far, there was
a little opening in which we could just discern the trees and the lighter
line of the road. I thought it best to pause there and take breath.
"Bagley," I said, "there is something about these ruins I don't
understand. It is there I am going. Keep your eyes open and your wits
about you. Be ready to pounce upon any stranger you see,--anything, man
or woman. Don't hurt, but seize anything you see." "Colonel," said
Bagley, with a little tremor in his breath, "they do say there's things
there--as is neither man nor woman." There was no time for words. "Are