"Down through the lane Come I again Seeking, my love, for you; Run to me, dear, Losing all fear, Love and----"
The voice stopped. Two men's figures confronted each other in an extremely narrow path. It was not too dark yet for each to be plainly recognisable to the other.
"Hi there, Roger Barnes; what you doing here? Fishing?"
"Getting pretty dark to find it. Something valuable?"
"Rather. Think I'll give it up for to-night."
"Too bad. Nice night." Lockwood was hastening toward the end of the path which came out near Anthony's house. Barnes looked after him grimly.
"That voice of yours, young man," he thought, "handicaps me from the start. Now, if I could just warble my emotions that way----"
He turned and peered again at the white place by the tree. He moved stealthily toward it, and ascertained presently that it was not what it seemed. He rose to his feet and walked rapidly down the path to the Redding house. When he came in sight of it he saw that the kitchen windows were lighted and that a man stood with his arm on the sill of one of them. Silhouetted against the light were the familiar outlines of Stevens Cathcart. As Barnes stood staring amazedly at this, a slender figure in white came to the window, and in the stillness he could hear the quiet voice:
"Please let me close the window, Mr. Cathcart. Thank you--no--and good-night."
"'Three Men in a Boat,' by Rachel Redding," murmured the doctor to himself, and slipped back to the willow path, from which he at length emerged to join the group upon the porch--which then, it may be observed, held for the first time that night its full complement of men.
Three big Chinese lanterns shed a softly pleasant light upon the porch and the lawn at its foot. Suzanne Gerard and Marie Dresser made a most attractive picture, one in a low chair, the other upon a pile of cushions on the step. Suzanne lightly picked a mandolin. Marie was singing softly:
"Down through the lane Come I again Seeking, my love, for you; Run to me, dear, Losing all fear, Love and my life will be true."
It was one of the songs of the summer--foolish words, seductive music--everybody hummed it half the time. Roger Barnes smiled to himself, remembering where he had heard it last.