“They are Ku Klux, you think?”

“I am morally certain of it, though I could not bring proof to convict even that rascally Dr. Savage.”

They agreed not to mention the occurrence in presence of their wives:  also that it would be best for Travilla to take his family home early, Mr. Dinsmore and Horace Jr. accompanying them as an escort.

This they could readily do without arousing the fears of the ladies, as both were constantly coming and going between the two places.

The sun was nearing the horizon when they reached the Oaks.

Rose and Elsie were in the veranda awaiting their coming in some anxiety.

“Oh,” they cried, “we are so rejoiced to see you! so thankful that you are safe.  We feared you had met some of those dreadful Ku Klux.”

“Yes, little wife, we are safe, thanks to the protecting care which is over us all in every place,” Mr. Travilla said, embracing her as though they had been long parted.

“Ah yes,” she sighed, “how I have been forgetting to-day the lessons of faith and trust I have tried to impress upon Mrs. Leland.  It is far easier to preach than to practice.”

Little feet came running in from the grounds, little voices shouted, “Papa has come!  Papa and grandpa too,” and a merry scene ensued—­hugging, kissing, romping—­presently interrupted by the call to tea.

There was nothing unusual in the manner of either gentleman and the wives had no suspicion that they had been in peril of their lives.

“I think it would be well to return home early to-night,” Mr. Travilla remarked to Elsie.

“Yes,” she said, “on account of the children.”

So the carriage was ordered at once, and shortly after leaving the table they were on their way—­Elsie, children and nurses in the carriage, with Mr. Travilla, Mr. Dinsmore and son, all well armed, as their mounted escort.

Horace had been taken aside by his father and told of the afternoon’s adventure, and in his indignation was almost eager for “a brush with the insolent ruffians.”

None appeared, however; Ion was reached in safety, they tarried there an hour or more, then returned without perceiving any traces of the foe.

The hush of midnight has fallen upon the Oaks, Ion, Fairview and all the surrounding region; the blinking stars and young moon, hanging a golden crescent just above the horizon, look down upon a sleeping world; yet not all asleep, for far down the road skirting yonder wood, a strange procession approaches;—­goblin-like figures, hideous with enormous horns, glaring eye-balls and lolling red tongues, and mounted upon weird-looking steeds, are moving silently onward.

They reach a small house hard by the road-side, pause before it, and with a heavy riding whip the leader thunders at the door.

The frightened inmates, startled from their sleep, cry out in alarm, and a man’s voice asks, “Who’s there?”