that set Hilda
Selwood's ears tingling with outraged disgust.

"The most painfully shocking scene I ever witnessed in my life, and I
hope and trust I never may again," was the latter's comment to her
husband some time afterwards.

"And the curious part of it is I can't for the life of me make out what
the deuce she can see in the fellow," had been Christopher's rejoinder.
"He's not much to look at, and although he's good company in a general
way, I don't think his brain-box holds a very close fit."

A common enough speculation, and one which must ever remain in the
category of things speculative. "What the deuce can she see in the
fellow?" Who is to say?

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

THE KEY AT LAST.

"Well, Fanning, I guess this time it's all U.P."

Renshaw made no reply. He gazed wearily at the great iron-bound hills,
whose cliffs were now beginning to reflect the glow of the declining
sun--and chipped mechanically at the rocks with the geological hammer in
his hand. His mind upon the subject was much the same as that of his
companion; but in actual fact his despondency was far greater. Still
with the desperate tenacity born of the habits of a lifetime, he was
unwilling to give in.

Four days have gone by since we last saw our two adventurers bivouacking
under the cliff--four days of threading mazy defiles and climbing the
roof-like sides of mountains--four days of burning, sweltering
exhaustion, ever eager, ever energetic with the tenfold vigour of a
fierce hunt for riches. Three out of the four have been devoted to
nothing but prospecting for their quest, for they passed the third
beacon--the third turret-headed mountain of the clue--early on the day
following that on which we last saw them--and now, worn out with toil
and disappointment! they are resting in the sweltering afternoon heat
deep down in a rock-bound valley where not a breath of air can come--not
a whisper of a stir to relieve the oven-like glow which is rendering
Sellon, at any rate, almost light-headed.

"A blank draw this time," growled the latter, wearily. "And what an
awful business it has been to get here! I wouldn't go through it again
for a thousand pounds. And then, just think what a brace of fools we
shall look to the people at Sunningdale."

Then as if the thought of Sunningdale--and what he had left there--put
the crowning stone upon his misery, Sellon proceeded to curse most
vehemently.

With weariness and disappointme