fire at me. Clever lad. Run along."

There was a rustling of the dead weeds, and instantly the
chauffeur was swallowed in the encompassing shadows.

Miss Forbes leaned toward the young man.

"Do you see a light in that lower story?" she whispered.

"No," said the man. "Where?"

After a pause the girl answered: "I can't see it now, either.
Maybe I didn't see it. It was very faint--just a glow--it
might have been phosphorescence."

"It might," said the man. He gave a shrug of distaste. "The
whole place is certainly old enough and decayed enough."

For a brief space they stood quite still, and at once,
accentuated by their own silence, the noises of the night grew
in number and distinctness. A slight wind had risen and the
boughs of the pines rocked restlessly, making mournful
complaint; and at their feet the needles dropping in a gentle
desultory shower had the sound of rain in springtime. From
every side they were startled by noises they could not place.
Strange movements and rustlings caused them to peer sharply
into the shadows; footsteps, that seemed to approach, and,
then, having marked them, skulk away; branches of bushes that
suddenly swept together, as though closing behind some one in
stealthy retreat. Although they knew that in the deserted