her being rose in opposition because it threatened her and hers. In that
moment she realized the Personality of the Forest... menacing.

In the stumbling movement that she made away from the window and towards
the bell she barely caught the sentence Sanderson--or was it her
husband?--murmured to himself: "It came because we talked of it; our
thinking made it aware of us and brought it out. But the cedar stops it.
It cannot cross the lawn, you see...."

All three were standing now, and her husband's voice broke in with
authority while his wife's fingers touched the bell.

"My dear, I should _not_ say anything to Thompson." The anxiety he felt
was manifest in his voice, but his outward composure had returned. "The
gardener can go...."

Then Sanderson cut him short. "Allow me," he said quickly. "I'll see if
anything's wrong." And before either of them could answer or object, he
was gone, leaping out by the open window. They saw his figure vanish
with a run across the lawn into the darkness.

A moment later the maid entered, in answer to the bell, and with her
came the loud barking of the terrier from the hall.

"The lamps," said her master shortly, and as she softly closed the door
behind her, they heard the wind pass with a mournful sound of singing
round the outer walls. A rustle of foliage from the distance passed
within it.

"You see, the wind _is_ rising. It _was_ the wind!" He put a