"They seem very happy," with a deep sigh that made me feel so sorry for him.

"He must be thinking of his little Virginia," I thought. She had lived only a year after her marriage and had been only nineteen when she died--he only a year or so older. "I suspect the moonlight reminds him of her. I know he did not mean to pick me up so sharply, and I am just not going to notice it."

Dee, who was biding her time hoping to get the crowd settled somewhere so we could slip off to the custard-colored hotel, now called to us to see the bust of William Gilmore Simms, and to tell her father about the nice, aristocratic old policeman who had so enthralled us by reciting the "Grape-Vine Swing" that morning.

Finally, with much maneuvering on her part, everyone was seated on some benches looking out over the water, with a clump of palmettos protecting them from the wind and at the same time hiding the road to the old house on the corner. Professor Green and Zebedee had entered into an amicable discussion of the political situation, and Mrs. Green was in the midst of an anecdote about her friend and sister-in-law, Judy Kean, now Mrs.

Kent Brown, an anecdote told especially for Dum's benefit, since it was of art and artists.

"Now's the time! Hurry!" whispered Dee.

In a moment we had slipped away and were sprinting along the walk to the custard-colored house. It was not much of a run, about two city blocks, I fancy, and we did it in an incredibly short time.

The old house looked very peaceful and still from without, but as we entered the door we found that, as was its habit, a wind was imprisoned in its walls and was whistling dolorously. The moonlight flooded the hall and stairs, making it quite light. Dee clutched my hand, and we went up those steps very quietly and quickly, through the bridal chamber and on into the corridor beyond, on which the numbered doors opened.

No. 13 was open! We paused for a moment as we approached it. Hark!

Certainly there was someone in the room. It seemed to me as though I weighed a million pounds and had only the strength of a kitten.

Fascinated, we crept closer, although I do not see how the kitten in me lifted the great weight I felt myself to have. There was a dim light in the room from a small kerosene lantern. Louis Gaillard was there, standing tiptoe upon the pile of bricks. Was he trying to fit that awful noose around his neck again? I felt like screaming as Dee had in the morning, but no sound would come from my dry throat.

Louis' face, that could be seen in the light of the lantern, did not look like the face of one who meant to make away with himself. There was purpose in it, but it was the purpose of high resolve. Grasping the rope as high up as he could with one hand, with the other he gave it a sharp cut with a knife. Dee and I leaned against each other for support. The rope was down, and now the thing for us to do was get out of that building as fast as we could. Louis must never know we had been there.

We blessed the wind, which made such a noise rattling the shutters and streamers of hanging wall paper that the boy remained absolutely unconscious of our presence. He had begun to destroy the pile of bricks as we crept away, taking them carefully back to the hearth where he had found them.

We sailed down the steps of that old hotel as hungry boarders might have done in days gone by "when they heard the dinner bell." We were out on the sea-wall and racing back to our friends before Louis had finished with the bricks, I am sure.

"Page," panted Dee, "don't you think Louis had lots of moral courage to go back there where he had so nearly come to grief and take down that rope and unpile those bricks?"

"Courage! I should say he had! I was nearly scared to death when I saw him there, weren't you?"

"I have never gone through such a moment in my life. It was worse than this morning, because this morning I did not know what to expect, while tonight I almost knew what was coming--the worst. When I saw the lantern and realized Louis was there, I could almost see him with the noose around his neck!"

Dee shivered and drew her coat more closely around her. Her face looked pale and pinched in the moonlight, while I was all in a glow from our race along the sea-wall.

"Dee, I believe you are all in."

"Oh, I'm all right--just a bit cold."

"All right, much! You are having a chill this very minute--you are, Dee--a nervous chill, and no wonder!"

We had been gone such a short time that no one seemed to have missed us.

Professor Green was still on the subject of initiative and referendum, and Mrs. Green had just finished a thrilling tale of art students' life in Paris when we sank on the bench beside them. Dee was shaking like an aspen, although she still insisted there was nothing the matter.

"Zebedee, Dee must go home immediately. She is sick, I believe."

"Dee sick?" and he sprang to his feet. "What's the matter with you, honey? Where do you feel sick? What hurts you?"

"Nothing! Oh, nothing!" and poor Dee's overwrought nerves snapped and she went off into as nice a fit of hysterics as one could find outside of a big boarding-school for girls.

"Dee, Dee, please tell me what is the matter!" begged her frantic father.

"She can't talk, but I can! She must go home and be put to bed. She has had too much excitement for one day."

"Where have you and she just been?" rather sternly, while Dee sobbed on with occasional giggles, Mrs. Brown and Dum taking turns patting her.

"We have been back to the custard-colored house," I faltered.

"Oh, you little geese! What did you want there, please?"

"Dee could not sleep until she knew the rope was cut from the chandelier. We went back to cut it down."

"Oh, I see. Did you cut it down?"

"No; Louis was there cutting it down when we got there. We didn't let him see us. But at first when we saw him we thought--we thought--maybe--he--he----" I could go no further. I could not voice our apprehensions before the Greens, who knew nothing of our experience of the morning.

"You poor babies! Why didn't you ask me to attend to it?"

"I wanted to, but Dee said you might think it was silly of us; and then she did not want you to think that maybe Louis was not trustworthy. She felt he needed all the friends he had--not to lose any."

"Loyal old Dee! Now, honey baby, you put your arm around me and I'll put my arm around you, and we will get over to the King Street car and be back to the hotel in a jiffy. The rest of you can walk, if you want to."

None of us wanted to, as we felt some uneasiness about Dee, although she had calmed down to an occasional sob that might pa.s.s for a hiccough. We piled on the trolley and were back at the hotel in short order.

The good breeding of the Greens was very marked during this little mix-up. Never once by word or look did they show the slightest curiosity as to what we were talking about. They were kind and courteous and anxious to help Dee have her chill and get over the hysterics, but that was all.

"Hadn't I better get a doctor for Dee?" poor Zebedee inquired, almost distracted, as he always was when one of his girls had anything the matter.

"I really do not think so," said Mrs. Green. "If you will let me take Dee in charge, I am sure I can pull her through. Doctor McLean, at Wellington, complains that I have lessened his practice by taking charge of so many cases where a doctor is not really needed."

"You had better trust her, Tucker; she has healing in her wings."

(Professor Green and Zebedee had sealed their rapidly growing friendship by calling each other Green and Tucker.) Tweedles always said that no one ever called their father Mr. Tucker longer than twenty-four hours unless he got to acting Mr. Tuckerish.

So Mrs. Green came to our room and had Dee in bed after a good hot bath and a dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia. She brought her own hot-water bag and put it to her feet, and then, tucking her in, gave her a motherly kiss. As she was certainly not very much older than we were, I might have said big-sisterly, but there is a difference, and that kiss was motherly. I know it was because I got one, too, and it seemed to me to be the female gender of the kind father gives to me, only on rare occasions, however, as we are not a very kissy family.

"Now, dear, you must go to sleep and not dream even pleasant dreams.

Don't dream at all."

And our kind friend prepared to leave us.

"Well, I feel fine now--but--but--I can't go to sleep until I tell you all about Louis and what happened today."

"But, my dear, you need not tell me. I think you must be quiet now. You see, I told your father I would be the doctor, and I must not let you do things to excite you. Talking about a trying experience would be the worst thing in the world for you."

"But I have been thinking it all over and I feel that you and Professor Green would be the ones of all others to take an interest in Louis and advise what to do about him."

"All right--in the morning!"

"No! Tonight. I want you to talk it over with your husband tonight."

"If you feel that way about it, just shut your eyes and go to sleep; Dum and I will do the telling without your a.s.sistance," I said; and Dee, who was in the last stages of exhaustion, gave in and was asleep almost before we got the light off.

Dum and I followed Mrs. Green to her room, where we told her the whole frightful business. She was all interest and solicitude.