to be seated there with food before her, when every instant she expected
the devastating power that lurked behind the stillness to burst forth
and engulf them. It was like sitting at the very mouth of hell, feeling
the blistering heat, and yet pretending that they felt it not.

Darker and darker grew the day. They sat in a close, unearthly twilight.
Though the huge entrance-door was flung wide, no breath of air reached
them, no song of birds or sound of moving leaf. Once Olga turned her
eyes to the far glimmer of the east window, but she turned them
instantly away again, and looked no more. For it was as though a hand
were holding up a dim lantern on the other side to show her the dreadful
scene, casting a stain of crimson across the space where once had stood
the altar.

Looking back later, she realized that it was only Nick's presence that
gave her strength to endure that awful suspense. She had never admired
him more than she did then, his shrewdness, his cheeriness, his
strength. There was not the faintest suggestion of strain in his
attitude. With absolute ease he talked or he was silent. Only in the
deepening gloom she caught now and then the quick glitter of his eyes,
and knew that like herself he was watching.

Slowly the minutes wore away, the darkness grew darker. From far away
there came a low, surging sound. The storm-wind was rising over the sea.

Nick turned his head to listen. "Now for one of our patent storms!" he
said. "Brethaven always catches it pretty strong. Remember that night
you developed scarlet fever, at Redlands, Olga _mia_, and your devoted
servant went down to a certain cottage on the shore to fetch a certain
lady to nurse you?"

Olga did remember. It was one of the cherished memories of her
childhood. "I told Muriel a secret about you that night, Nick," she
said, responding with an effort.

He nodded. "For which act of treachery you possess my undying gratitude.
Did you ever hear that story, Miss Campion?"

He offered her his cigarette-case with the words, and she turned her
brooding eyes upon him. "Thanks!" she said. "I will have one of my own.
Yes, I know that story. Your wife must be a very brave woman."

"She had me to take care of her," pointed out Nick.

Violet laughed with a touch of scorn.

"Oh, quite so," he said. "But I bear a charmed life, you should
remember. No one ever drowns in my boat."

She leaned her chin upon her hand, and surveyed him through the weird
twil