eyed by Maggie, to
which she had the presence of mind to return the answer that she had
caught cold, and was staying in bed for the present, but would no doubt
be quite well shortly. Also that she was sorry not to bid him good-bye,
but begged that he would not think of postponing his departure.

She heard as in a dream the sound of the mailman's arrival, and
presently, of the saddling of horses in the yard, and then the
CLOP-CLOP of their feet as they were ridden past her end of the house
to the Gully crossing. There were two horses. So Maule had left the
head-station with Harry the Blower, as she had bidden him do. She was
conscious of relief.

She realised in bewildered fashion, that Maule was gone out of her life
at Moongarr, and connected the sound of his horses' departing feet with
the thud of Sir Luke Tallant's hall door, when he had left her at the
first interview which had led to their final quarrel.

From that effort of memory she sank again into mental coma. Maggie took
it to be natural sleep, and laid the mailbag just brought by Harry the
Blower, on her mistress' bed to await her awakening. Much later in the
day, on the return of Mr Ninnis and the other men from their
cattle-muster, finding the bag still untouched, Maggie broke the seals
at her mistress' dazed order, and having sorted out Lady Bridget's
letters, carried away the bag for Ninnis to take his own mail.

But Lady Bridget paid no heed to her letters, and thus it happened that
for the time being, she was quite unaware of an event which was of
great importance to her.

She had been scarcely even distantly conscious of the hue and cry, and
general excitement at the head-station, when it was discovered that the
prisoner had escaped. Harris had his own suspicions--it might be said,
his certainties, but the man's crafty nature bade him keep his
accusations for an opportunity when he ran less risk of being worsted.
He meant to wait until McKeith's return. Meanwhile what he had not been
prepared for was Willoughby Maule's departure with the mailman before
he himself came back from an unsuccessful hunt after the fugitives.
That move had lain outside his calculations. He had gleaned enough from
Mrs Hensor, as well as from his own observation, to feel sure that
Maule and Lady Bridget were in love with each other, and he had never
supposed that they would part so abruptly.

The head-station was very shorthanded in the absence of Ninnis and the
stockmen,