gather wood for a fire. Break dead branches from the standing trees—never mind picking up wood from the ground, it will be too damp."
Together we collected a considerable heap and, crumpling a bit of paper in its midst, he kindled it.
"Now, then," he went on, "I'm heading for town. You two will stay here and keep each other company."
He took our lanterns, blew them out and ran his left arm through the loops of their handles.
"I'm sure that nothing will attack yon in the light of the fire. You're bound to attract whatever skulks hereabouts, however. When I come back, we ought to be prepared to go into the final act of our little melodrama."
He touched my hand, bowed to Susan, and went tramping away into the timber. The thick leafage blotted his lantern-light from our view before his back had been turned twenty seconds.
Susan and I gazed at each other, and smiled rather uneasily.
"It's warm," she breathed, and took off her cloak. Dropping it upon one of the humped roots of the great central tree, she sat down on it with her back to the trunk. "What kind of a tree is this?"
I gazed up at the gnarled stem, or as much of it as I could see in the firelight. Finally I shook my head.
"I don't know—I'm no expert," I admitted. "At least it's very big, and undoubtedly very old—the sort of tree that used to mark a place of sacrifice."
At the word "sacrifice," Susan lifted her shoulders as if in distaste. "You're right, Talbot. It would be something grim and Druid-like." She began to recite, half to herself:
That tree in whose dark shadow
The ghastly priest doth reign,
The priest who slew the slayer
And shall himself be slain.
"Macaulay," I said at once. Then, to get her mind off of morbid things, "I had to recite The Lays of Ancient Rome in school, when I was a boy. 'I wish you hadn't mentioned it."
"You mean, because it's an evil omen?" She shook her head, and contrived a smile that lighted up her pale face. "It's not that, if you analyze it. "Shall himself be slain'—it sounds as if the enemy's fate is sealed."
I nodded, then spun around sharply, for I fancied I heard a dull crashing at the edge of the clearing. Then I went here and there, gathering wood enough to keep our fire burning for some time. One branch, a thick, straight one, I chose from the heap and leaned against the big tree, within easy reach of my hand.
"That's for a club," I told Susan, and she half shrunk, half stiffened at the implication.
We fell to talking about Judge Pursuivant, the charm and the enigma that invested him. Both of us felt gratitude that he had immediately clarified our own innocence in the grisly slayings, but to both came a sudden inspiration, distasteful and disquieting. I spoke first:
"Susan! Why did the judge bring us here?"
"He said, to help face and defeat the monster. But—but——"
"Who is that monster?" I demanded. "What human being puts on a semi-bestial appearance, to rend and kill?"
"Y—you don't mean the judge?"
As I say, it had been in both our minds. We were silent, and felt shame and embarrassment.
"Look here," I went on earnestly after a moment; "perhaps we're being ungrateful, but we mustn't be unprepared. Think, Susan; nobody knows where Judge Pursuivant was at the time of your father's death, at the time I saw the thing in these woods." I broke off, remember-
