thoughtfully.

"A pack of dogs--you SAW them?"

"Saw them? I saw nothing else!"

"How many?" She dropped her voice a little. "I've always
wondered--"

I looked at her with surprise: I had supposed the place to be
familiar to her. "Have you never been to Kerfol?" I asked.

"Oh, yes: often. But never on that day."

"What day?"

"I'd quite forgotten--and so had Herve, I'm sure. If we'd
remembered, we never should have sent you today--but then, after
all, one doesn't half believe that sort of thing, does one?"

"What sort of thing?" I asked, involuntarily sinking my voice to
the level of hers. Inwardly I was thinking: "I KNEW there was
something. . ."

Madame de Lanrivain cleared her throat and produced a reassuring
smile. "Didn't Herve tell you the story of Kerfol? An ancestor
of his was mixed up in it. You know every Breton house has its
ghost-story; and some of them are rather unpleasant."

"Yes--but those dogs?" I insisted.