Never in all my born days had I imagined that a well-built staircase could make so much noise when trod upon by two of the gentler sex as did that stair in the Markheim mansion as Peaches and I made our stealthy--or at least comparatively stealthy--descent of it. Nor could I have believed it possible that the floor of that majestic hall was so ill laid as to squeak; but it did. As for the French windows of the library, which we selected as our means of exit, they appeared, to our hypersensitive consciousness, to be one chorus of rattles and groans. Unbarring them was simple enough even in the dark, for we did not dare to use any lights save that from Peaches's pocket flash, and once outside we took good care to close them after us, first making sure that the latch was open. The garden was glorious in the moonlight, even though the barrenness of early spring was still upon it. A wealth of hyacinths sent up a heavy sweetness in the still night air, and on the lawn toward the river crocuses were whiter than the moonlight itself. Keeping close to the wall Peaches led the way to the fountain--a lovely thing, brought, like most of Sebastian's treasures, from overseas, and nestling against the wall as perfectly set as in the place for which it had originally been intended. A group of cedars, tall and dark, stood in a martial row on either side of it, casting a black shadow which afforded us perfect shelter from any prying eyes, and the tinkle of the water from the pipes of the ancient little Pan against the ivy-covered wall fell into the basin below with a sound that was music. A perfect night, a perfect spot, a perfect ladylove, Alicia--her face a white blur against the darkness--detached, ethereal, utterly lovely. And what of the man? Was he going to prove the ghost of a dead romance, or common clay? I fairly ached to know, being for once so absorbed in her love that I forgot to feel old and out of place. But advancing years will manifest themselves, and often in the most annoying manner and at times least convenient. And as time went by and no lover appeared upon the scene I grew very, very tired. "What do you suppose is the matter?" I asked at length. "Something has detained him," Peaches replied. "Have patience. He can't be long now!" Another period of silence went by, punctuated only by the hoot of a night boat going up the river like some great golden water beetle, and the occasional rustle of the budding branches overhead as a cool breeze sprang up and sent little clouds flecking across the wide face of the moon. Then came the sound of a step upon the gravel. "There he is!" whispered Alicia, seizing me by the arm. Her hand was hot and trembling. But the sound was not repeated, and no one approached, though we waited with straining ears. "It's past the time now," said Peaches at length. "Oh, Peaches--let us return!" I besought her. "I don't believe he's coming. Besides, I'm getting so tired!"