In an instant she was out of bed. She hurried on a pair of bedroom slippers which she kept beside her on the floor, and an old dressing-gown which was handy on a chair, moving as quickly and as noiselessly as the darkness would permit. Snatching up her candlestick, with its box of matches, she passed, without a moment's hesitation, as noiselessly as possible from the room. On the landing without she stood, for a second or two, listening. There could be no doubt about it--some one was in the sitting-room. Someone who wished to make himself or herself as little conspicuous as possible; but whose presence was still sufficiently obvious to the keen-eared auditor. Madge went to Ella's room, and, turning the handle, entered. As she did so, she could hear Ella start up in bed. "Who's there?" she cried. "Hush! It's I. There's some one in the sitting-room." Lighting a match, Madge applied it to the candle. Ella was sitting up in bed, staring at her, with tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, apparently only half awake. "Madge!--what do you mean?" "What I say. We're about to experience another of the drawbacks of rural residence. There's some one in the sitting-room--another uninvited guest." "Are you sure?" "Quite. If you care to go downstairs and look, you'll be sure." "Whatever shall we do?" "Do!--I'll show you what we'll do. Where's that revolver of Jack Martyn's, which he lent you?" "It's in my handkerchief drawer--but it's loaded." "All the better. I've fired off a revolver before to-day, and I am quite willing, at a pinch, to fire off another one to-night. I'll show you what we'll do." While she spoke, Madge had been searching the drawer in question. Now she stood with the weapon in her hand. "Perhaps you'll be so good as to get out of bed, and put something on, unless you prefer to go downstairs as the Woman in White. I suppose you're not afraid?" Ella had got so far out of bed as to sit on the side, with her feet dangling over the edge. "Well--I don't know that I am exactly afraid, but if you ask me if being woke in the middle of the night, to be told there's burglars in the house, is the kind of thing I'm fond of, I'll admit it isn't." Madge laughed. Ella's tone, and air of exceeding ruefulness, apparently struck her as comical. "It occurs to me, Miss Duncan, that it won't be long before Mr. Martyn makes a convert of you. As for me, now my blood's getting up--and it is getting up--I am beginning to think that it is rather fun." "Are you? Then I'm afraid your sense of humour must be keener than mine." She followed Madge's example--putting on a pair of slippers and a dressing-gown. "Now, what are you going to do?" "I'm going down to ask our guest to show me his card of invitation." "Madge! Hadn't we better open the window and scream? Or you might fire into the air--if you're sure you do know how to fire a revolver."