"Why do you blame him for everything?" cried the girl hotly. "Doesn't a woman ever cast this spell you speak of? What defence has a man against--" "Do you call yourself an evil woman? Nonsense! Don't talk like that. I am not blaming him. He can't help himself. He loves you. That's not his fault. But you do not love him. You are afraid of him. You would run from him if you could. He must go away. You must send him away. Tell him of Blythe's letter. Face him with it. Tomorrow,--not tonight. You are not yourself tonight. Trust me, dearest Alix. Do as I tell you. Promise." "I will not come down," said Alix slowly, and Mrs. Strong went out. She heard the key turn in the door. CHAPTER XVI ROSABEL All night long bands of men scoured the woods and fields, with lanterns and dogs and guns. Courtney Thane, thrilled by that one glorious, overpowering moment of contact, sallied forth with the first of the searchers. He showed them where the masked man vaulted over the porch rail, and the course he took in crossing the terrace, below which Courtney's coat was found where he had cast it aside at the beginning of the chase. The first shot was fired as the man climbed over the fence separating the old-fashioned garden from the wooded district to the west, the second following almost immediately. Thane was over the fence and picking himself up from the ground after tripping when the last shot was fired. He ran forty or fifty yards farther on and then his knee gave out. Realizing that pursuit was useless under the circumstances, he hurried back to the house to give the alarm. It appears that he first saw the man as he was nearing the top of the steps leading to the terrace. The fellow's figure, in a crouching position, was distinctly outlined against the lighted window. "Kind of a funny time for a robber to be monkeyin' around a house," said Charlie Webster, after Courtney had concluded his brief story. "Eight o'clock is no time to figure on breaking into a house." "He probably figured that the occupants would be at dinner," said Courtney. "Or maybe he was getting the lay of the land while there were lights to guide him. That is most likely the case. Lord, how I wish I had had a gun!" "Maybe it's lucky you didn't," said Charlie. "Guns are pretty treacherous things to monkey with, Court. You might have shot yourself." "Oh, I guess I know how to handle a gun, Charlie," retorted Thane, after a perceptible pause. "Anyhow," remarked Constable Foss, "we now know why that dog of Alix's was killed. This robber had things purty well sized up. He knowed he had to fix that dog first of all,--and that goes to show another thing. He is purty well posted around these parts. He knowed all about that dog. He ain't no tramp or common stranger. The chances are he ain't even a perfessional burglar. Maybe some dago,--or, by gosh, somebody we all know."