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That grove might well be Birnam wood. Mildred half expected to see the silent mass of trees creep forward in the moonlight.

With hypnotic stare she watched the blackened edge that marked the spot where the boughs cut off the moonlight. There was a clear-cut division between the ground beneath the trees and the end of the moonlit lawn. That stretch of blackness would be the first to move!

For a few minutes the girl’s fancies continued; then they waned. Mildred seemed to see clearly again; the blackness at the side of the grove appeared quite normal, and Mildred watched in idle curiosity. A moment later, the girl experienced a startling chill. The shadow of the trees was moving at one spot — a projecting patch of blackness was creeping out upon the lawn!

GRIPPING the back of the bench, Mildred watched in stark terror. Like a living thing, the extending mass moved onward; it detached itself from the blackness of the woods, and became the shadow of a human form!

It was then that Mildred saw the being in black. So suddenly did she realize his presence that she fancied that he had grown instantaneously from the ground. Within the range of the moonlight stood a tall, unearthly figure — a weird personage garbed in jet-black cloak and topped with broad-brimmed hat.

Mildred Chittenden did not recognize The Shadow; unacquainted with the ways of the underworld, she had never learned of the terror which that solitary being could provoke. But in Mildred’s mind lay a real horror of that grove beyond the lawn; a creepy fear that recognized a menace in its midst. Here, before her staring eyes, the girl had seen a living form develop from the spell of darkness!

To Mildred, The Shadow was a specter of the night — a wanderer from unearthly domains. That form in black, more sinister than any creature of her fevered dreams, stood as proof of danger that lay within the depths of the grove.

What was its purpose here?

Mildred watched the phantom shape as it moved slowly across the lawn. It was going toward the house.

It was lost beside the blackish walls of the building. Was it a menace to those who slept within the mansion?

Mildred trembled. A warning cry might suffice to save the others, but should it pass unheard, she would be at the mercy of that frightful phantom.

Half in relief, half in fright, the girl suppressed a sigh as she saw the tall black shape once more. The Shadow had made a circuit of the building. Silently, he was emerging from the darkness on the side toward the cove.

Now his form was closer; it passed across the lawn and neared the edge of the grove. Mildred fancied that she heard a low, shuddering sound — an uncanny laugh that made her tremble again.

Peering through the moonlight, the girl watched the figure as it moved away from the shore, almost a portion of the blackness by the edge of the grove. Had she not seen the form before, she could not have seen it now. As it was, her eyes barely discerned The Shadow’s progress as the black-clad visitant neared the fence that marked the limit of Lower Beechview.

Once again, the form of The Shadow was clear in the moonlight as it passed through the little gate. Then it was lost to the girl’s vision. The Shadow had gone as mysteriously as he had arrived.

Mildred Chittenden sighed at the conclusion of the ordeal. She was too weak to leave this spot of security; at the same time, she was surprised at her own bravery. After the first fright, that black-clad shape had not seemed so ominous. Its departure left the girl wondering. To her amazement, she was doubting that The Shadow was a menace.

Fantastic, yet so real that its presence could not be forgotten, the being in black had come and gone with no threatening gesture. To a certain extent, that somber form was more a guardian than foe. Mildred wondered if she had seen a ghost; if so, what its purpose could have been. Was some wandering spirit haunting this old estate?

LONG minutes went by, while Mildred’s thoughts remained at a standstill. The girl sensed the passing of time; she knew, instinctively, that the spectral shape would not return tonight. Nevertheless, she waited here, calmly resting, her mind perturbed at times, at other intervals less fearful.

At last, Mildred regained power of action. She started to rise from the bench; then stood transfixed at the sight of another living form. Where The Shadow’s shape had been mysterious and supernatural, this new specter was hideous and earthly. With tightened lips, Mildred shrank back upon the bench, knowing that she now faced danger.

A creeping man was coming from the grove. His body bent almost double, he appeared more as a crawling creature than a man. He was moving stealthily, yet lacked the gliding motion that had characterized the approach of The Shadow.

As the creeping man came into the moonlight, his face was visible above his close-fitting dusky garments.

He had come from the grove at a spot quite close to the shore. Now, his head turned in each direction, and Mildred, slipping down upon the bench, could see his visage plainly.

The girl was terror-stricken at the sight of yellow, pockmarked features, and evil, glinting eyes that stared almost directly toward her. She recognized that this creature was a Chinaman, his fiendish bearing and huddled arms indicated that he carried a weapon. Here was a human enemy, Mildred sensed.

Had the yellow man spied her, she would have counted herself lost. But the Chinaman’s gaze did not light upon the girl.

This creature that had materialized from the trees seemed intent upon reaching the shelter of the house.

Satisfied that no one was watching, he scurried across the lawn, and huddled beside the porch. From that spot, Mildred fancied that she heard a thin, faint whistle — like a shrill, though guarded, hiss.

The girl listened. A second sound came from somewhere. The Chinaman appeared upon the steps. He was entering the house!

Now, despite her qualms, Mildred felt the necessity of action. The first spectral visitor had inspired her with awe; the present one filled her with alarm.

Was the man bent on murder? Mildred could well believe it. She had feared for Walter Pearson when she had seen him go into the grove. Something must have happened to the lawyer. Now a physical menace had come from the grove; it threatened all who slept in Lower Beechview.

Rising swiftly, Mildred hurried directly toward the house. She was ready to encounter the yellow-faced creature, confident that she would be able to give an alarm. Nevertheless, she restrained her steps as she neared the porch. From then on, the girl advanced cautiously.

A living-room window was open. Mildred stole toward it, noiselessly. She could hear sounds from within. She listened.

Someone was speaking a low, singsong voice — scarcely more than a piping whisper. There were breaks in the talk, as though the speaker were receiving replies from someone who spoke more guardedly.

“Lei Chang do” — Mildred could hear only that statement; then mumbled words, and finally a strangely accented name — “Koon Woon — Koon Woon — Koon Woon—”

At last the lisping talk concluded. Mildred heard someone moving in the darkened living room. She waited beside the window; then shrank behind a protecting chair as she saw, but did not hear, the front door open.

THE Chinaman was leaving the house. As silently as he had come, the yellow-faced creature, more insidious at this close view, was hurrying back to the grove of trees. Watching through the rails of the porch, Mildred saw him scurry to the beeches; then his stooped form was swallowed by the darkness.

Mildred was sure that more than conjecture made her realize that this wicked-looking monstrosity made his home among the beeches. But she could not divine why he had come into the house. Harvey, like herself, had been awake. Could he have been watching from the window to see this fearful creature?