did not wish to miss a word of the plans the two men were making. But Polly was evidently weary and ready to go home.
"Come along, Cousin Eleanor," he said briskly, and the three went, laughing, out through the door and down the steps.
It was very dark when Oliver brought out the big car and, skirting the fallen tree, made his way carefully down the drive. A bank of clouds to the eastward was all that was left of the storm, however, and through this the moon was breaking, with promise to rise clear, and come out into an empty sky. Oliver slowed down the car as they came to the gate and stopped for a moment to consider. The wind had dropped so completely that they could hear every sound of the summer night, even the dull, far-off roar of the flooded river.
"Do you know," he began slowly, "we never remembered to tell them that John Massey has left his place. I don't think any one but ourselves knows that he went away immediately; they will be thinking that he is still there, watching the dike. And to-night—listen how loud the river sounds!"
"Suppose we go down and look," said Polly. "It will not take us long and the road runs close to the bank."
He turned the car accordingly and they sped down the steep road, the sky growing brighter above them and the darkness fading as the moon came out. When they reached the last incline the whole of the
