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 château, aunt Cecilia had taken her on visits to châteaux of many of uncle Hilaire's friends. She might indeed have been in this very room before. It was hopeless for her to try to recall from her memories of when she was five and eight where it was that she had previously visited this salon; moreover, her mind was not now dwelling upon what might have been her own association with this room. What was Barney Loutrelle's? For this remarkable salon was, she knew, the heart of the house; he had been sent from across the water to this room.

She moved nearer the mantel and gazed at the design incised over the fireplace; it bore a dignified, formal device like—yes, very like—the device wrought upon Barney Loutrelle's ring. Certainly his ring, which Azen Mabo had taken with him from Noah Jo, belonged to the epoch and to the station of this room. Such a lady as had first worn that old ring must have entertained in a salon like this.

Recollections of many events were rushing through her mind, connecting themselves with this room. She remembered that several years ago her grandfather had made Wheedon take him through this house and when she asked him what it was like he had refused to tell her,—without reason, it then seemed. Now she knew that there was a definite, compelling reason which he had found when he viewed this room; her grandfather knew the significance of these things on Resurrection Rock; he had known why Barney Loutrelle had been sent here, and he had taken it as a threat to himself which he had met by sending Kincheloe out last night.

She forbade herself further conjectures and began to examine the room more closely for evidence of re-