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These directions were obeyed at once. The house, the grounds, the whole wild night with its driving tempest became radiant with lights and alive with terrified men. That a human being should be murdered was sufficiently ghastly without this crowning horror of a missing body coming after. Every man looked on his fellow with suspicion; in the yellow light of the lanterns, dimly through the steady downpour of rain, could be seen pallid faces and scared expressions. And while the men folk scoured the house, the park, and the adjacent lanes environing "Ashantee," the female servants, unnerved and hysterical, crowded together in the kitchen, whispering over hastily prepared tea. It was a wild night, and full of the vague horrors of death and mystery.,

This was easier said than done, as Mrs. Dallas would not allow Maurice to set foot in the house. Still Maurice hoped to learn the truth from the tramp himself, a hope that proved futile also, Battersea had gone on one of his begging excursions, and for quite a week was not seen in the neighborhood of "Ashantee." Then he suddenly made his appearance at the house, and asked to see Maurice. On being led into the hall, Alymer came out to speak with him, and after a few words he took the old man into the library. Jen, who was rather curious to know what Maurice might learn from the disreputable old scamp, waited patiently for the termination of the interview. As Alymer did not reappear, he sought the library, and found the young man alone.,

"It would seem so," he assented. "Mr. Aylmer is dead, as you say; so the term life in death can not be applied to his present state of non-existence. But you will admit that I foretold that evil would happen to him if he decided to marry Miss Dallas. It has turned out as I thought.",

Patricia nodded as she held the door wide for Elinor. "Griffin said she'd be ready for us, and Margaret Howes is coming straight down from composition class."

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Elinor's soft laugh rippled out. "It's clear that you haven't tried to do it, or you'd see how easy it is to make caricatures instead of portraits," she said. "I didn't think they were so very bad.",

"I know she's going to be a treat," she declared. "I hope she keeps whole for a while at least, until I get better acquainted.",

"What!" cried Arkel, in surprise. "Do you pity Mr. Sarby?",

"I couldn't, sir. I felt as in a dream; but I turned and tried to fight her. She pushed me over, and I fell like a log. I think I must have hit my head on a corner of the bed, for I felt a cruel pain at the back of it."