itself it had no mark of the portentous. At the moment there
could have been nothing more natural than that Ned should dash
himself from the roof in the pursuit of dilatory tradesmen. It
was the period when they were always on the watch for one or the
other of the specialists employed about the place; always lying
in wait for them, and dashing out at them with questions,
reproaches, or reminders. And certainly in the distance the gray
figure had looked like Peters.

Yet now, as she reviewed the rapid scene, she felt her husband's
explanation of it to have been invalidated by the look of anxiety
on his face. Why had the familiar appearance of Peters made him
anxious? Why, above all, if it was of such prime necessity to
confer with that authority on the subject of the stable-drains,
had the failure to find him produced such a look of relief? Mary
could not say that any one of these considerations had occurred
to her at the time, yet, from the promptness with which they now
marshaled themselves at her summons, she had a sudden sense that
they must all along have been there, waiting their hour.



II


Weary with her thoughts, she moved toward the window. The
library was now completely dark, and she was surprised to see how
much faint light the outer world still held.

As she peered out into it across the court, a figure shaped