Boru buried his head in his paws and with a very mournful expression watched her leave. He knew that there was one mysterious place to which he was never allowed to accompany his mistress, and he resented it. He was right in guessing that she was going there to-day. Janet left the house by the door that led to the steps and down to the sea road. The water looked sparkling blue and inviting, and she hurried along until she came to a small dock, very much the worse for age. She untied a row boat and found two broken oars that were hidden in the tall grass beside the road. There was no one in sight as she pushed off, and only a few sails were visible flapping smartly out beyond the harbor. Her cheeks were flushed as she sent the old boat skimming over the water, for she was on her way to her secret kingdom. Though she had sailed to it many times there was always the chance of discovery, and that added zest to the adventure. The point of land toward which she was heading was quite a distance off, and looked to be rather a desolate island. It was, in reality, however, a part of the mainland, for the bay came in, and the land around it was shaped like a big hook. There were a few fishing huts along the shore, and farther inland low farms nestled into the hills. Janet chose a certain cove to land in and pulled her boat safely up on shore, and then she started off at a brisk walk. At this particular point of the beach the sand dunes were very high, and she was screened from sight except from the water front. She walked for about a quarter of a mile and then began to climb. Up above her on a rising knoll of ground a little way beyond the sand dunes was an old gray house. It was large and very rambling, but it was tumbling down. The roof sagged at one end, and the two big chimneys were crumbling to ruin. There was not a sign of life anywhere about it or in the many ramshackled farm buildings that evidently belonged to it. All the windows were boarded up but one, a very small one that led into the cellar. Janet pushed it open gently and slid down as far as she could and then dropped. It was very dark and very musty. She groped her way to the rickety stairs as quickly as she could. The door at the top opened with a groan as she pushed, and she was in a long, low-ceilinged kitchen. Rain had come down through the leaky roof and rusted the stove, the furniture was covered with dust, and a forlorn china cup with its handle broken lay dejectedly on one corner of the table.