The sky, studded with stars, is without a cloud. Yonder, shadowed by the lofty headland, the grey rock-turrets of The Skegs stand forth spectral under the clear moon. Again that most dismal sound floats out upon the night air, but no one seems to hear or notice it. No one? One--that is. One who has heard it before. The curate, glancing at his host, is surprised and alarmed at the latter's face, for it is ashy white; and following the set and rigid gaze, behold! a dark shadow is resting blackly upon the summit of the haunted rock. And Roy, with his hackles erect and gums drawn back, is snarling aggressively in response. The terrible and grisly Ban once more. What does it portend? CHAPTER FORTY ONE. THE SWORD FALLS. Olive was rather unwell on the morning after the picnic. It was nothing to worry about, she declared. She supposed she had overdone it, and was a little tired. Any way, she would stay in bed till the afternoon. So Roland and Sophie sat down to a late breakfast alone, Marsland having left earlier to spend a few days at Ardleigh. "What a jolly day we had yesterday!" the girl was saying. "Olive didn't catch cold, did she, Roland?" "No. She'll be all right after a good sleep. Roy, you vagabond, shut up. That melodious voice of yours is matter in the wrong place just now." But Roy, who had been lying curled up on the rug, refused to be silenced. His threatening growl became a deep-toned bay, and his ruff began to rise, as with fangs bared he sprang towards the door, which was yet shut. There were voices in the hall. Then the door opened. "Come here, Roy, d'you hear, sir?" cried Roland, seizing him by the neck and dragging him by main force towards the rug. "Now. Lie down, sir." The dog would hardly obey, but half rose again, keeping up a running note of growls. "Please, sir," said the butler, entering, "there are two gentlemen want to see you very particular." "Who are they?" "They won't give their names, sir, and I never saw them before." Roland frowned. "Suppose I must send the fellows about their business. Back in a minute, Sophie." It may be that an ugly misgiving shot through his mind at that moment, but if so he showed no sign of it. As Jervis said afterwards, with awe and admiration in his voice: "Master was out-and-out the very coolest party he'd ever seen." The strangers were standing in the hall. With astonishment he recognised the men who had accosted him at Durnley Castle the day before. "Your name is Roland Dorrien, I believe, sir?" began one of them, before he had time to ask a question. "It is. Kindly walk in here and state your business with me." He held open the study door. The others, with a moment's hesitation, accompanied him within. Then they turned. "I have a most unpleasant duty to perform, sir," said the spokesman of the pair. "And that?" said Roland coolly, though conscious that his face was becoming white.