A spell of coughing seized the rapt musician. After it had passed, he
lay forward on the organ a while, with his head bowed on his arms. Then
he straightened himself up wearily, and began pushing the stops back
into their places.

The silence brought John Jay to his senses. He crawled along the aisle
and out of the door, blinkling like an owl as he came into the blinding
sunshine. Many experiences had convinced him that he was born under an
unlucky star. When he went leaping down the hill to the log where he had
left his basket, it was with the sickening certainty that some evil had
befallen the eggs. He was afraid to look for fear of finding a mass of
broken shells strewn over the ground. It was with a feeling of surprise
that he saw the white ends of the top layer of eggs peeping out of their
bed of bran, just as he had left them. With a sigh of relief he picked
up the basket; then whistling gaily as a mockingbird, he set out once
more in the direction of Rosehaven.




CHAPTER IV.


Something unusual was going on at Rosehaven. Awnings were spread over
the lawn, gay colored lanterns were strung all about the grounds, and a
stage for outdoor tableaux had been built near the house, where a dark
clump of cedars served as a background.

John Jay had orders to take the eggs directly to the cook, but his
curiosity kept him standing open-mouthed on the lawn, watching the