It was hard on midnight when Sir Beverley suddenly raised both hands to his mouth and sent a shrill, peculiar whistle through them across the quiet garden. It had been his special call for Piers in his childhood. Even as he sent it out into the darkness, he seemed to see the sturdy, eager little figure that had never failed to answer that summons with delight racing headlong towards him over the dim, dewy lawn. But to-night it brought no answer though he repeated it again and yet again; and as twelve o'clock struck heavily upon the stillness he turned from the window and groaned aloud. The boy had gone, gone for good, as he might have known he would go. He had driven him forth with blows and bitter words, and it was out of his power to bring him back again. Slowly he crossed the room and rang the bell. He was very cold, and he shivered as he moved. It was Victor who answered the summons, Victor with round, vindictive eyes that openly accused him for a moment, and then softened inexplicably and looked elsewhere. "You ask me for _Monsieur Pierre_?" he said, spreading out his hands, "_Mais--_" "I didn't ask for anything," growled Sir Beverley. "I rang the bell to tell you and all the other fools to lock up and go to bed." "But--me!" ejaculated Victor, rolling his eyes upwards in astonishment. "Yes, you! Where's the sense of your sitting up? Master Piers knows how to undress himself by this time, I suppose?" Sir Beverley scowled at him aggressively, but Victor did not even see the scowl. Like a hen with one chick, and that gone astray, he could think of naught beside. "_Mais Monsieur Pierre_ is not here! Where then is _Monsieur Pierre?_" he questioned in distress. "How the devil should I know?" snarled Sir Beverley. "Stop your chatter and be off with you! Shut the window first, and then go and tell David to lock up! I shan't want anything more to-night." Victor shrugged his shoulders in mute protest, and went to the window. Here he paused, looking forth with eyes of eager searching till recalled to his duty by a growl of impatience from his master. Then with a celerity remarkable in one of his years and rotundity, he quickly popped in his head and closed the window. "Leave the blind!" ordered Sir Beverley. "And the catch too! There! Now go! _Allez-vous-en!_? Don't let me see you again to-night!" Victor threw a single shrewd glance at the drawn face, and trotted with a woman's nimbleness to the door. Here he paused, executed a stiff bow; then wheeled and departed. The door closed noiselessly behind him, and again Sir Beverley was left alone. He dragged a chair to the window, and sat down to watch.