And as he spoke, there dropped slowly down from a bough, right before them, what seemed a living chain of gold, ruby, and sapphire. Both stopped, and another glance showed the small head and bright eyes of a snake, hissing and glaring full in their faces. “See!” said Frank. “And he comes, as of old, in the likeness of an angel of light. Do not strike it. There are worse devils to be fought with to-night than that poor beast.” And stepping aside, they passed the snake safely, and arrived in front of the house. It was, as I have said, a long low house, with balconies along the upper story, and the under part mostly open to the wind. The light was still burning in the window. “Whither now?” said Amyas, in a tone of desperate resignation. “Thither! Where else on earth?” and Frank pointed to the light, trembling from head to foot, and pushed on. “For Heaven's sake! Look at the negroes on the barbecue!” It was indeed time to stop; for on the barbecue, or terrace of white plaster, which ran all round the front, lay sleeping full twenty black figures. “What will you do now? You must step over them to gain an entrance.” “Wait here, and I will go up gently towards the window. She may see me. She will see me as I step into the moonlight. At least I know an air by which she will recognize me, if I do but hum a stave.” “Why, you do not even know that that light is hers!--Down, for your life!” And Amyas dragged him down into the bushes on his left hand; for one of the negroes, wakening suddenly with a cry, had sat up, and began crossing himself four or five times, in fear of “Duppy,” and mumbling various charms, ayes, or what not. The light above was extinguished instantly. “Did you see her?” whispered Frank. “No.” “I did--the shadow of the face, and the neck! Can I be mistaken?” And then, covering his face with his hands, he murmured to himself, “Misery! misery! So near and yet impossible?” “Would it be the less impossible were you face to face? Let us go back. We cannot go up without detection, even if our going were of use. Come back, for God's sake, ere all is lost! If you have seen her, as you say, you know at least that she is alive, and safe in his house--” “As his mistress? or as his wife? Do I know that yet, Amyas, and can I depart until I know?” There was a few minutes' silence, and then Amyas, making one last attempt to awaken Frank to the absurdity of the whole thing, and to laugh him, if possible, out of it, as argument had no effect-- “My dear fellow, I am very hungry and sleepy; and this bush is very prickly; and my boots are full of ants--” “So are mine.--Look!” and Frank caught Amyas's arm, and clenched it tight. For round the farther corner of the house a dark cloaked figure stole gently, turning a look now and then upon the sleeping negroes, and came on right toward them. “Did I not tell you she would come?” whispered Frank, in a triumphant tone.