“See that light over there—up the mountain?” he asked, leading her to a window. “Old man Grimes and his wife live up there. They keep a light burning all night to scare Renwood's ghost away. By Jove, the storm will be upon us in a minute. I thought it had blown around us.” The roll of thunder came up the valley. “Thank heaven, you 're safe indoors. Let them pursue if they like. I 'll hide you if they come, and the servants are close-mouthed.”
“I don't like the way you put it, Mr. Shaw.”
“Hullo, hullo—the house,” came a shout from the wind-ridden night outside. Two hearts inside stopped beating for a second or two. She caught her breath sharply as she clasped his arm.
“They are after me!” she gasped.
“They must not find you here. Really, Miss Drake, I mean it. They would n't understand. Come with me. Go down this hall quickly. It leads to the garden back of the house. There's a gun-room at the end of the hall. Go in there, to your right. Here, take this! It's an electric saddle-lantern. I 'll head these fellows off. They shan't find you. Don't be alarmed.”
She sped down the narrow hall and he, taking time to slip into a long dressing-coat, stepped out upon the porch in response to the now prolonged and impatient shouts.
“Who 's there?” he shouted. The light from the windows revealed several horsemen in the roadway.
“Friends,” came back through the wind. “Let us in out of the storm. It's a terror.”
“I don't know you.” There was a shout of laughter and some profanity.
“Oh, yes you do, Mr. Shaw. Open up and let us in. It's Dave Rank and Ed Hunter. We can't make the cabin before the rain.” Shaw could see their faces now and then by the flashes of lightning and he recognized the two woodsmen, who doubtless had been visiting sweethearts up toward Ridgely.