Frazier continued his noise. He made a clatter as he doffed his heavy boots. A rickety old chair creaked under him as he sat in it. Charles heard even his dull tread as he thumped about in his bare feet, removing his outer clothing. A window-sash was thrown up with a jarring bang. Then the groaning of the mahogany bedstead announced that he had retired for the night.
Charles went to a window and looked out. He could see the apple-trees Mary had indicated, and he was glad that they were not in view of the windows of Frazier's room. He waited, wondering if the visitor were a quick and sound sleeper. He took off his shoes that he might as noiselessly as possible descend the stairs. He decided that he must go at once; it would be discourteous to let Mary reach the rendezvous first. So, with his shoes in his hand, he started down. In the great, empty hall the creaking of the worn, well-seasoned steps seemed to ring out sharply as exploding gun-caps. After each sound he paused, waited, and listened to see if Frazier had been aroused. All was still, and he moved on. Reaching the outer door, he found that Mary had left it unlocked. He was soon outside and under the trees at the side of the house. He could see the window of Mary's room. It was dark. She had not retired, of that he was sure; like himself, she must be waiting somewhere in the dark. The moon was higher now, and its pale, star-aided light fell over the fields and mountains and the long, winding road to the village.
Presently he saw Mary coming. She wore slippers and was very swift of foot. As lightly as a wind-blown wisp of smoke she flitted across the grass toward him.
"Are you here, Mr. Brown?" she asked, her voice trilling like the suppressed warbling of a bird.
"Yes, Miss Rowland," he answered, softly, and he advanced toward her.
"Thank God!" she ejaculated, fervently. "I was afraid you would not be able to get down past Albert's room. What is it you have to say? Oh, I'm crazy—crazy to hear!"
He told her, watching her face closely. She started, narrowed her eyes in perplexity, and then, unconsciously, put both of her hands on his arm and held it as she might have that of a long-tried and trusted friend.
"Oh, what do you think? What do you think?" she all but moaned. "Will it be safe?"
She had lifted her sweet face close to his. Her touch on his arm was a thing never to be forgotten. It seemed to rivet his very soul to hers.
He weighed his decision deliberately. "I cannot really see that they are in much more danger," he finally got out. "It is a fact, as Kenneth says, that, with us to keep watch on the road, we could warn them of any approach that had a suspicious look. After all, perhaps the very last place the officers would think of searching would be one so close at home. At any rate, the boys want to be near you—Martin especially."