“Yes.”

“When?”

“At once.  Will you come?”

“Not now.  I’ll gallop over by-and-bye.  You are going to the edge of the Kerselec forest?”

“Yes; you will hear us calling.  Are you coming, Max Fortin?  And you, Le Bihan?  Good; take the dog-cart.”

The big gendarme tramped around the corner to the stable and presently returned mounted on a strong gray horse, his sabre shone on his saddle; his pale yellow and white facings were spotless.  The little crowd of white-coiffed women with their children fell back as Durand touched spurs and clattered away followed by his two troopers.  Soon after Le Bihan and Max Fortin also departed in the mayor’s dingy dog-cart.

“Are you coming?” piped Le Bihan shrilly.

“In a quarter of an hour,” I replied, and went back to the house.

When I opened the door of the morning room the death’s-head moth was beating its strong wings against the window.  For a second I hesitated, then walked over and opened the sash.  The creature fluttered out, whirred over the flower beds a moment, then darted across the moorland toward the sea.  I called the servants together and questioned them.  Josephine, Catherine, Jean Marie Tregunc, not one of them had heard the slightest disturbance during the night.  Then I told Jean Marie to saddle my horse, and while I was speaking Lys came down.

“Dearest,” I began, going to her.

“You must tell me everything you know, Dick,” she interrupted, looking me earnestly in the face.

“But there is nothing to tell—­only a drunken brawl, and some one wounded.”

“And you are going to ride—­where, Dick?”

“Well, over to the edge of Kerselec forest.  Durand and the mayor, and Max Fortin, have gone on, following a—­a trail.”

“What trail?”

“Some blood.”

“Where did they find it?”

“Out in the road there.”  Lys crossed herself.

“Does it come near our house?”

“Yes.”

“How near?”

“It comes up to the morning room window,” said I, giving in.

Her hand on my arm grew heavy.  “I dreamed last night——­”

“So did I—­” but I thought of the empty cartridges in my revolver, and stopped.

“I dreamed that you were in great danger, and I could not move hand or foot to save you; but you had your revolver, and I called out to you to fire——­”

“I did fire!” I cried excitedly.

“You—­you fired?”

I took her in my arms.  “My darling,” I said “something strange has happened—­something that I cannot understand as yet.  But, of course, there is an explanation.  Last night I thought I fired at the Black Priest.”

“Ah!” gasped Lys.

“Is that what you dreamed?”

“Yes, yes, that was it!  I begged you to fire——­”

“And I did.”

Her heart was beating against my breast.  I held her close in silence.