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Maurice, whose nerves were proof against such fantasies, laughed disbelievingly. "You can depend upon my silence," said Isabella, who held out her hand. "I'll count ten, and then I'll go," she said to herself..

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Outside, the peaceful landscape was filled with a warm amber light, and this poured into the oak-paneled dining-room through three French windows which opened onto a close-shaven lawn. Dinner was at an end; Jaggard, the major's valet, butler and general factotum, had placed the wines before his master, and was now handing around cigars and cigarettes. All being concluded to his satisfaction--no easy attainment, for Jaggard, trained in military fashion, was very precise--he departed, closing the door after him. The warm light of the evening flashed on the polished table--Major Jen was sufficiently old-fashioned to have the cloth removed for desert--and lighted up the four faces around it with pale splendor. This quartette of countenances is not unworthy of a detailed description. "Now, now," laughed Isabella, "no more of that nonsense, Battersea." She turned and ran along the veranda into the house. The tramp and the negress were alone. "So after ten years Alfred Bennett is coming back to offer his bachelor's-buttons to you, Mrs. Molly?" he said in the voice he always uses when he makes fun of Billy and me, and which never fails to make us both mad. "True," said Jen; "and why should these wretches have murdered that man?".