I did not forget her warning. When I shut the door of my room I looked to the priming of my pistols, drew my sword from its scabbard, and then lay down upon the bed without undressing. Some time later I awakened suddenly with the consciousness that I had been struck in the face; not a heavy blow, but a light one as if by some small object. I sat still, listening. Soon there came a sharp click upon the floor, then another as of something striking against the window frame. Someone was surely throwing pebbles into my room from the outside. I rose and went to look out of my window, which was on the second floor. Below me in the moonlight stood Meg of the Hills. Her skinny finger was raised to her lips for silence. For a moment her features showed intense—what was it? Hatred, anger, fear—I know not. Then she threw up her hands, her head fell back, and she sang: “Fire and sleete and candle-light, And Christ receive your soul.” She pointed her hand at me, pronounced the words, “Be wary,” and was gone swiftly like a shadow on the water. What struck me most was her changed manner. Early in the evening, I had heard her singing in a wild, harsh screech. Now she spoke under her breath, cunningly, as if in secret. Was she warning me and was there cause? A narrow balcony ran along one side of the house at the level of the second floor, passing just in front of my window. At that moment I heard a casement open and some one step on this balcony. I drew back into my room, catching up my sword and pistols. I smelt danger in the air, though as yet none was visible. Suddenly I concealed myself behind the hangings on the wall. I did this because I saw some one come cautiously to my window and peer through it into my room. I looked again; I could not be mistaken; the figure, the white hair; yes, it was Louis Van Ramm, the patroon’s dwarf. [Illustration: “I THOUGHT HE WOULD SURELY HEAR MY BREATHING”—_p. 187_ ] The room was too dark for him to see my bed. He listened for a short space of time, during which I thought he would surely hear my breathing. Then he crawled cautiously through the casement into my room. He was followed by a strapping fellow, almost a giant, armed with a huge two-handed sword. They had scarcely entered my room when I saw the patroon behind them upon the balcony just outside the window. “Be quick,” he said in an undertone. “He may wake at any moment.” The giant who had followed Louis stepped forward at this command from his chief. He stopped three feet from the side of the bed. I could see him outlined against the window though it must have been all dark to him. He poised the great clumsy weapon for a minute, and then swung it about his head. The blade sang through the air and fell across my bed with a deep thud. But for Meg I should have been lying there! “My God!” shrieked the giant; and I never heard such agony in a human voice.