He lay down and shut his eyes as if in natural repose.  Only his right hand, carelessly placed under his pillow, closed on the handle of his pistol.  Falkner quietly slipped into the passage.  The light of the candle faintly illuminated the floor and opposite wall, but left it on either side in pitchy obscurity.

For some moments the silence was broken only by the sound of the rain without.  The recumbent figure in bed seemed to have actually succumbed to sleep.  The multitudinous small noises of a house in repose might have been misinterpreted by ears less keen than the sleeper’s; but when the apparent creaking of a far-off shutter was followed by the sliding apparition of a dark head of tangled hair at the door, Lee had not been deceived, and was as prepared as if he had seen it.  Another step, and the figure entered the room.  The door closed instantly behind it.  The sound of a heavy body struggling against the partition outside followed, and then suddenly ceased.

The intruder turned, and violently grasped the handle of the door, but recoiled at a quiet voice from the bed.

“Drop that, and come here.”

He started back with an exclamation.  The sleeper’s eyes were wide open; the sleeper’s extended arm and pistol covered him.

“Silence! or I’ll let that candle shine through you!”

“Yes, captain!” growled the astounded and frightened half-breed.  “I didn’t know you were here.”

Lee raised himself, and grasped the long whip in his left hand and whirled it round his head.

“Will you dry up?”

The man sank back against the wall in silent terror.

“Open that door now—­softly.”

Manuel obeyed with trembling fingers.

“Ned” said Lee in a low voice, “bring him in here—­quick.”

There was a slight rustle, and Falkner appeared, backing in another gasping figure, whose eyes were starting under the strong grasp of the captor at his throat.

“Silence,” said Lee, “all of you.”

There was a breathless pause.  The sound of a door hesitatingly opened in the passage broke the stillness, followed by the gentle voice of Mrs. Scott.

“Is anything the matter?”

Lee made a slight gesture of warning to Falkner, of menace to the others.  “Everything’s the matter,” he called out cheerily.  “Ned’s managed to half pull down the house trying to get at something from my saddle-bags.”

“I hope he has not hurt himself,” broke in another voice mischievously.

“Answer, you clumsy villain,” whispered Lee, with twinkling eyes.

“I’m all right, thank you,” responded Falkner, with unaffected awkwardness.

There was a slight murmuring of voices, and then the door was heard to close.  Lee turned to Falkner.

“Disarm that hound and turn him loose outside, and make no noise.  And you, Manuel! tell him what his and your chances are if he shows his black face here again.”