3 86 
TIIE STRAND MAGAZINE . 
it was, staring up at me in the lamplight, 
more than a yard ahead. 
Then, just as 1 reached it with my fingers, 
there came that sound again, only louder 
than before, and so close that it seemed to 
be just at my elbow. I wasted no time over 
that tin ; I got on to my bicycle somehow, 
and off 1 rode towards Leila — and Mclcombe. 
J had a horrid idea that someone was following 
me, though I was not sure, and I did not 
dare to look back. 1 went bump, bump, 
bumping over the ruts, and when I came to 
the light on Leila’s bicycle I cried out ; — 
“ Leila ! Open the gate — quick ! There’s 
someone on the common ! ” 
But no one answered. 
“ Leila ! ” I gasped. “ What is the matter ? 
Where are you ? ” 
Then 1 saw that she was lying on the ground, 
in the mud, close to her machine. She had 
fainted or something, and had apparently lain 
there unconscious for I don’t know how long. 
Luckily she began to show signs of returning 
back to life. 
“ Leila/’ I whispered. “ You poor child ! 
What has gone wrong with you ? ” 
She opened her eyes and looked at me — our 
lamps were shining on both of us — and when 
she saw who it was, she said : — 
“ Oh, Sally, I’ve seen Geoffrey’s ghost ! ” 
“ Leila, whatever do you mean ? What are 
you talking about ? ” 
1 helped Tier up to her feet while she 
answered :• — 
“ Listen, Sally, listen ! ” I had to, con- 
sidering how she hung round my neck. “ I 
saw Geoffrey as plainly as T see you, just as 
I turned to call out to you to come back,” 
“ How much did you see of him ? ” 
“ I saw his face.” 'She hid hers against 
my shoulder, shaking like a leaf. “ Sally,” 
she managed to get out, “ do you think he’s 
dead ? ” 
“ I’m sure he isn’t. You’re tired and 
nervy, and you’ve got the shivers. I bet 
twopence that he’s much more alive at this 
moment than you arc. I had to leave that 
stupid old tin behind me, after all, after nearly 
breaking my toe against it, because I had an 
idea that there was someone besides us on the 
common. Come, we’re not going to be put 
off after coming all this way ; we shall have 
to do without the tin, but. Mclcombe shall 
burn — another torch shall be lighted in 
England to-night.” . 
1 talked like that because I wanted to get 
my own spirits up as well as hers ; hers wanted 
some getting up. As a matter of fact, I had 
to lead her machine as well as my own. 1 
got the gate open and went through it, with 
her clinging to my arm. 
Fortunately it was not far from the gate 
to the house. I took the lamp off my machine 
in order that we might have some idea of where 
we were. We moved farther on. 
“ Why,” I presently exclaimed, “ the hall- 
door is wide open.” 
We had been to Melcombe four times 
— that made the fifth — and each time that 
door had been hermetically closed. Indeed, 
a stone step which was just in front of it had 
fallen away, and through the opening whic h 
this had made a wild hop had managed to 
find its way, and had attained such dimensions 
that it almost served the door as a screen. 
Now this hop had vanished— and the door 
was open. 
If the great and glorious spirits who, for 
the Cause, have burnt down houses and 
cricket pavilions and even railway carriages, 
have suffered what we did then, then I should 
say that the courage shown by the six hundred 
at Balaclava was as nothing compared to 
theirs. When Leila and I saw that that door, 
which only yesterday looked as if it had not 
been opened for centuries, was wide open, our 
knees knocked together — at least, I know 
mine did, and T believe hers did, because she 
felt like it. 
We were in what 1 have heard described as 
“ a blue funk ” ; and yet we did not run 
away. In the first place, wc could not have 
run if we had tried, and i do not know where 
we should have run to, anyhow. We just 
clung to each other. 
u Who’s opened the door ? ” gasped Leila. 
“ That’s what I’ve been wondering,” 
I gasped back. 
“ Someone must have been here since 
yesterday.” 
“ What is the use,” I inquired, after having, 
as it seemed to me, hung on to each other 
long enough to appear ridiculous, “ of our 
stopping here ? Let us go into the house.” 
It was so dark that , although she whimpered 
at the idea of being left, even for a moment, 
alone, I went back and got my lamp and hers 
— and off I started, tramping over the 
resounding boards. 
“ Don’t go upstairs,” cried Leila, when we 
reached the foot of what, so far as one could 
judge in the rather imperfect light, was a 
fine staircase. I had no intention of going 
upstairs — we did not want to set fire to the 
top of the house, but to the bottom, so there 
was no reason why we should go up. I bore 
her off towards the door which was on the 
right of the staircase. 
