aught stirring, save the gentle sea-wash on Moonfleet beach beyond the salt meadows.
Elzevir looked at me uneasily as I came back.
"What ails thee, boy?" said he.
"I thought I heard some one at the door," I answered; "did you not feel a cold wind as if it was open?"
"It is but the night is sharp, the spring sets in very chill; slip the bolt, and sit down again," and he flung a fresh log on the fire, that sent a cloud of sparks crackling up the chimney and out into the room.
"Elzevir," I said, "I think there was one listening at the door, and there may be others in the house, so before we sit again let us take candle and go through the rooms to make sure none are prying on us."
He laughed and said, "'Twas but the wind that blew the door open," but that I might do as I pleased. So I lit another candle, and was for starting on my search; but he cried, "Nay, thou shalt not go alone;" and so we went all round the house together, and found not so much as a mouse stirring.
He laughed the more when we came back to the parlour.
"'Tis the cold has chilled thy heart and made thee timid of that skulking rascal of the Manor; fill me a glass of Ararat milk, and one for thyself, and let us to bed."
I had learned by this not to be afraid of the good liquor, and while we sat sipping it, Elzevir went on,—
"There is a fortnight yet to run, and then you and I shall be cut adrift from our moorings. It is a cruel thing to see the doors of this house closed on me, where I and mine have lived a century or more, but I must
