"And what are these little red crosses?" asked Mrs. Dennison, laying the tip of her finger on one.
"Eh? What, those? Oh, let me see. Here, just hold it while I look at Carlin's letter. He explains it all," and Lord Semingham began to fumble in his breast-pocket.
"Dear me," said Bessie Semingham, in a tone of delicate pleasure, "they look like tombstones."
"Hush, hush, my dear lady," cried the old Baron; "what a bad omen!"
"Tombstones," echoed Maggie Dennison thoughtfully. "So they do—just like tombstones."
A pause fell on the group. Adela broke it.
"Well, Director, have you found your directions?" she asked briskly.
"It was a momentary lapse of memory," said Semingham with dignity. "Those—er—little——"
"No, not tombstones," interrupted the Baron earnestly.
"Little—er—signposts are, of course, the forts belonging to the Company. What else should they be?"