Lighting a match, Madge applied it to the candle. Ella was sitting up in bed, staring at her, with tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, apparently only half awake.
"Madge!--what do you mean?"
"What I say. We're about to experience another of the drawbacks of rural residence. There's some one in the sitting-room--another uninvited guest."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite. If you care to go downstairs and look, you'll be sure."
"Whatever shall we do?"
"Do!--I'll show you what we'll do. Where's that revolver of Jack Martyn's, which he lent you?"
"It's in my handkerchief drawer--but it's loaded."
"All the better. I've fired off a revolver before to-day, and I am quite willing, at a pinch, to fire off another one to-night. I'll show you what we'll do." While she spoke, Madge had been searching the drawer in question. Now she stood with the weapon in her hand. "Perhaps you'll be so good as to get out of bed, and put something on, unless you prefer to go downstairs as the Woman in White. I suppose you're not afraid?"
Ella had got so far out of bed as to sit on the side, with her feet dangling over the edge.