She glanced pitifully at him once more and then haltingly told her story.
"I—I was sittin' in the kitchen there, the night of the supper party—by the door—restin' and tryin' to get cool—when—when a knock come on the door-jamb outside. It sounded queer—the door bein' open—an' my nerves bein' shook sorter with the goin's on here. But I went to the door an' leaned out. There was a man standin' in the shadow——"
Mrs. Bergen paused in a renewed difficulty of breathing.
"And then——?" Peter urged.
"He—he leaned forward toward me an' spoke rough-like. 'You're the cook, ain't you?' he says. I was that scared I—I couldn't say nothin'. An' he went on. 'You tell McGuire to meet me at the end of the lawn to-morrow night.'"
"And what did you say?"
"Nothin'. I couldn't."
"What else did he tell you?"
Mrs. Bergen bent her head but went on with an effort.
"He says, 'Tell McGuire Ben—Ben Cameron's come back.'"