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Something else was to happen shortly to make Billy feel that his world was full of mysterious agents sent for no other purpose than to give him fresh worries. "At 'The Swan,' sir." "Here, you Willium," she commanded, "you drink these here salts and not a word out o' you, or I'll tan you good and plenty." Billy found himself, face down, on the wet moss. Maurice was tugging at his arm. The stricken tree had burst into flame, beneath the ghostly light of which path, creek and pine-grove stood out clear-limned as a cameo against a velvet background. Billy noted this as he sat dazedly up. He and Maurice were alone; old Harry had vanished..