A wave of half-smothered objurgation now rolled up from below; it was not to be readily caught, but its tone indicated rage and disappointment.  But the guitar had ceased to sound, and the French love song was heard no more.  A little irrepressible laugh came from somewhere, but who heard it beside herself Mrs. Easterfield could not know.  Then all was still, and the insects of the night, and the tree frogs, had the stage to themselves.

Early in the morning Miss Raleigh presented herself before Mrs. Easterfield to make a report.  “There was a serenade last night,” she said, “not far from Miss Asher’s window.  In fact, there were two, but one of them came from Mr. Locker’s room, and was simply awful.  Mr. Du Brant was the gentleman who sang from the lawn, and I was very sorry when he felt himself obliged to stop.  I do not think very much of him, but he certainly has a pleasant voice, and plays well on the guitar.  I think he must have been a good deal cut up by being interrupted in that dreadful way, for he grumbled and growled, and did not go into the house for some time.  I am sure he would have been very glad to fight if any one had come down.”

“You mean,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “if Mr. Locker had come.”

“Well,” said the secretary, “if Mr. Hemphill had appeared I have no doubt he would have answered.  Mr. Du Brant seemed to me ready to fight anybody.”

“How do you know so much about him?” asked Mrs. Easterfield.  “And why did you think of Mr. Hemphill?”

“Oh, he was looking out of his window,” said Miss Raleigh.  “He could not see, but he could hear.”

“I ask you again,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “how do you know all this?”

“Oh, I had not gone to bed, and, at the first sound of the guitar, I slipped on a waterproof with a hood, and went out.  Of course, I wanted to know everything that was happening.”

“I had not the least idea you were such an energetic person,” remarked Mrs. Easterfield, “and I think you were entirely too rash.  But how about Mr. Lancaster?  Do you know if he was listening?”

Miss Raleigh stood silent for a moment, then she exclaimed:  “There now, it is too bad!  I entirely forgot him!  I have not the slightest idea whether he was asleep or awake, and it would have been just as easy—­”

“Well, you need not regret it,” said Mrs. Easterfield.  “I think you did quite enough, and if anything of the kind occurs again I positively forbid you to go out of the house.”

“There is one thing we’ve got to look after,” said Miss Raleigh, without heeding the last remark, “this may result in bloodshed.”

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Easterfield; “nothing of that kind is to be feared from the gentlemen who visit Broadstone.”

“Still,” said Miss Raleigh, “don’t you think it would be well for me to keep an eye on them?”

“Oh, you may keep both eyes on them if you want to,” said Mrs. Easterfield.  Then she began to talk about something else, but, although she dismissed the matter so lightly, she was very glad at heart that she had sent for her husband.  Things were getting themselves into unpleasant complications, and she needed Tom.