She had shown me into a pleasant room, where a little table was set near an open window.  It made quite a picture, with its white cloth and shining dishes and plate of yellow butter, and bowl of crimson berries, and—­but I didn’t linger to admire it.  I don’t know when I have enjoyed breakfast so much.  Mrs. Hargis, after bringing in the eggs and bacon and setting a little pot of steaming coffee at my elbow, sensibly left me alone to the enjoyment of it.  Ever since that morning, I have realised that, to start the day exactly right, a man should breakfast by himself, amid just such surroundings, leisurely and without distraction.  A copy of the morning’s Record was lying on the table, but I did not even open it.  I did not care what had happened in the world the day before!

At last, ineffably content, I stepped out upon the driveway at the side of the house, and strolled away among the trees.  At the end of a few minutes, I came to the high stone wall which bounded the estate of the mysterious Worthington Vaughan, and suddenly the wish came to me to see what lay behind it.  Without much difficulty, I found the tree with the ladder against it, which we had mounted the night before.  It was a long ladder, even in the daytime, but at last I reached the top, and settled myself on the limb against which it rested.  Assuring myself that the leaves hid me from any chance observer, I looked down into the grounds beyond the wall.

There was not much to see.  The grounds were extensive and had evidently been laid out with care, but there was an air of neglect about them, as though the attention they received was careless and inadequate.  The shrubbery was too dense, grass was invading the walks, here and there a tree showed a dead limb or a broken one.  Near the house was a wide lawn, designed, perhaps, as a tennis-court or croquet-ground, with rustic seats under the trees at the edge.

About the house itself was a screen of magnificent elms, which doubtless gave the place its name, and which shut the house in completely.  All I could see of it was one corner of the roof.  This, however, stood out clear against the sky, and it was here, evidently, that the mysterious midnight figures had been stationed.  As I looked at it, I realised the truth of Godfrey’s remark that probably from no other point of vantage but just this would they be visible.

It did not take me many minutes to exhaust the interest of this empty prospect, more especially since my perch was anything but comfortable, and I was just about to descend, when two white-robed figures appeared at the edge of the open space near the house and walked slowly across it.  I settled back into my place with a tightening of interest which made me forget its discomfort, for that these were the two star-worshippers I did not doubt.

The distance was so great that their faces were the merest blurs; but I could see that one leaned heavily upon the arm of the other, as much, or so it seemed to me, for moral as for physical support.  I could see, too, that the hair of the feebler man was white, while that of his companion was jet black.  The younger man’s face appeared so dark that I suspected he wore a beard, and his figure was erect and vigorous, in the prime of life, virile and full of power.