Mollie looked puzzled. The countess's words were shrouded in mystery.
"Does it concern the Count de Sonde, too?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes," replied the countess; "it concerns him very intimately. Will you do this for me, little Mollie? I know now that the paper is not safe either in my house or on me. It would be quite safe with you, however. Even my enemy would never think of that, and, if anything should happen to me, you may produce the paper at once. Give it to Mr. Stuart. He will know what should be done."
The countess took from her dress a square, flat chamois bag which fastened with a clasp and evidently contained a document of some sort.
"Fasten it into your dress with this pin," she said, "and keep the pin as a memento of our friendship."
And the pin, as Mollie saw later, was no ordinary affair, but a broad gold band on which was a beautifully enameled coat of arms.
"Is this another secret session?" cried Ruth's voice gayly from the window.
"Come into our room," Ruth continued. "Papa has sent up the luncheon hamper. There are still some sandwiches and fruit left; likewise a box of candy. We were too frightened to have appetites at supper, but I think a little food, now, will cheer us mightily."
"This looks quite like a boarding-school spread," exclaimed Miss Sallie as they gathered around the feast. "But it is really a good idea. I feel that this little midnight luncheon might help me keep up my courage until I get to sleep."
"What a jolly little feast," cried the Countess Sophia. "I am quite beginning to take heart again after that fearful ordeal below. I had a feeling all the time that the chairs were not really empty."
"Goodness me!" cried Grace, "do change the subject, or we shall be afraid to go to bed at all."
"And I move that we take to our couches at once," said Ruth, "while we have the courage to do so. Madame de Villiers, are you not afraid to sleep alone?"
"Not in the least, my dear. I am not afraid of the most courageous ghost that ever walked. I believe I will retire at once. I am very tired."
Taking one of the candles which stood in a row on the mantel, making a cheerful illumination, the stately old woman bade them good night, and the tapping of her stick resounded through the empty hall.