mackintoshes which glistened from the weather. Dobson halted and
listened to the wind howling in the upper spaces. He cursed it
bitterly, looked at his watch, and then made an observation which
woke the liveliest interest in Dickson lurking beside the awmry and
Heritage ensconced in the shadow of a window-seat.

"He's late. He should have been here five minutes syne. It would be
a dirty road for his car."

So the Unknown was coming that night. The news made Dickson the more
resolved to get the watchers under lock and key before reinforcements
arrived, and so put grit in their wheels. Then his party must
escape--flee anywhere so long as it was far from Dalquharter.

"You stop here," said Dobson, "I'll go down and let Spidel in.
We want another lamp. Get the one that the women use, and for
God's sake get a move on."

The sound of his feet died in the kitchen passage and then rung
again on the stone stairs. Dickson's ear of faith heard also the
soft patter of naked feet as the Die-Hards preceded and followed him.
He was delivering himself blind and bound into their hands.

For a minute or two there was no sound but the wind, which had found
a loose chimney cowl on the roof and screwed out of it an odd sound
like the drone of a bagpipe. Dickson, unable to remain any longer in
one place, moved into the centre of the hall, believing that Leon had
gone to the smoking-room. It was a dangerous thing to do, for
suddenly a match was lit a yard from him. He had the sense to
drop low, and so was out of the main glare of the light. The man