That evening Father Bivot came to the castle, just as they were leaving the dinner table. He brought startling news. Not an hour before, while on his way from the nearest village, he had come upon a big party of men, quartered on the premises of a gardener down the valley. It required but little effort on his part to discover that they were officers from the capital, and that they were looking for the place where Courant's body was found. The good Father also learned that detectives from Brussels were in the party, and that one of the men was a prince. The eager listeners in Castle Craneycrow soon drew from the priest enough to convince them that Ugo was at the head of the expedition, and that it was a matter of but a few hours until he and his men would be knocking at the gates. “The prince did not address me,” said Father Bivot, “but listened intently, as I now recall, to everything I said in response to the Luxemburg officer's questions. That person asked me if Lord Robert Saxondale owned a place in the valley, and I said that his lordship dwelt in Castle Craneycrow. The men were very curious, and a tall Italian whispered questions to the officer, who put them to me roughly. There was no harm in telling them that his lordship was here with a party of friends--” “Good Lord!” gasped Dickey, despairingly. “It is all over,” said Quentin, his face rigid. “What will they do?” demanded Dorothy, panic-stricken. “I do not understand your agitation, good friends,” said the priest, in mild surprise. “Have I done wrong in telling them you are here? Who are they? Are they enemies?” “They are searching for me, Father Bivot,” said Dorothy, resignedly. “For you, my child?” in wonder. “They want to take me back to Brussels, You would not understand, Father, if I told you the story, but I do not want them to find me here.” A frightened servant threw open the door unceremoniously at this juncture and controlling his excitement with moderate success, announced that a crowd of men were at the gates, demanding admission. “My God, Bob, this will ruin you and Lady Saxondale!” groaned Quentin. “What can we do? Escape by the underground passage?” Lord Saxondale was the coolest one in the party. He squared his shoulders, sniffed the air belligerently, and said he would take the matter in his own hands. “Frances, will you take Miss Garrison upstairs with you? And Jane, I suspect you would better go, too The secret passage is not to be considered. If we attempt to leave the place, after the information Father Bivot has given them, it will be a clean admission of guilt. We will face them down. They can't search the castle without my permission, and they can't trespass here a minute longer than I desire. Do you care to see the prince, Quentin?” “See him? It is my duty and not yours to meet him. It means nothing to me and it means disgrace to you, Bob, Let me talk to--”