“Hello, Lester,” called Godfrey’s voice, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and he ran the car on toward the rear of the house.

I stood up with a gasp of thankfulness.  Here was someone to confide in and advise with.  The stretch of lonely waiting was at an end; it had been a trying evening!

I think the warmth of my greeting surprised Godfrey, for he looked at me curiously.

“Sit down, Godfrey,” I said.  “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“What, discoveries already?” he laughed, but he drew a chair close to mine and sat down.  “Well, what are they?”

I began at the beginning and related the day’s adventures.  He listened without comment, but I could see how his interest grew.

“So young Swain is over in those grounds now,” he said thoughtfully, when I had finished.

“Yes; he’s been there three-quarters of an hour.”

“Why do you suppose Miss Vaughan named so late an hour?”

“I don’t know.  Perhaps because she was afraid of being discovered earlier than that—­or perhaps merely because she’s just a romantic girl.”

Godfrey sat with his head bent in thought for a moment.

“I have it!” he said.  “At eleven-thirty every night her father and the adept go up to the roof, to remain there till midnight.  That is the one time of the whole day when she is absolutely sure to be alone.  Come along, Lester!”

He was on his feet now, and his voice was quivering with excitement.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Up the ladder.  It’s nearly twelve.  If the star falls as usual, we’ll know that everything is all right.  If it doesn’t ...”

He did not finish, but hurried away among the trees.  In a moment we were at the ladder; in another moment we were high among the leaves, straining our eyes through the darkness.

“I’m going to look at my watch,” said Godfrey, in a low voice.  “Lean back and screen me.”

I heard the flash of the match and saw a little glare of light against the nearest leaves.  Then Godfrey’s voice spoke again.

“It’s three minutes of twelve,” he said.

There was a tension in his voice which sent a shiver through me, though I understood but dimly what it was he feared.  The stars were shining brightly, and once I fancied that I saw the strange star appear among them; but when I closed my eyes for an instant and looked again, it was gone.  Slow minute followed minute, and the hand with which I clutched the ladder began to tremble.  The sight of that mysterious light had shaken me the night before, but not half so deeply as its absence shook me now.  At last the suspense grew unendurable.

“It must be long past midnight,” I whispered.

“It is,” agreed Godfrey gravely; “we may as well go down.”

He paused an instant longer to stare out into the darkness, then descended quickly.  I followed, and found him waiting, a dark shadow.  He put his hand on my arm, and stood a moment, as though in indecision.  For myself, I felt as though an intolerable burden had been laid upon my shoulders.