med."

"I don't quite see what I am to do," Westray said, looking up. "Could
he have gone out with Lord Blandamer? Do you think Lord Blandamer could
have asked him to Fording?"

"Lord Blandamer was here this afternoon," Miss Joliffe answered, "but he
never saw Mr Sharnall, because Mr Sharnall was not at home."

"Oh, Lord Blandamer was here, was he?" asked Westray. "Did he leave no
message for me?"

"He asked if you were in, but he left no message for you. He drank a
cup of tea with us. I think he came in merely as a friendly visitor,"
Miss Joliffe said with some dignity. "I think he came in to drink a cup
of tea with me. I was unfortunately at the Dorcas meeting when he first
arrived, but on my return he drank tea with me."

"It is curious; he seems generally to come on Saturday afternoons," said
Westray. "Are you _always_ at the Dorcas meeting on Saturday
afternoons?"

"Yes," Miss Joliffe said, "I am always at the meeting on Saturday
afternoons."

There was a minute's pause--Westray and Miss Joliffe were both thinking.

"Well, well," Westray said, "I shall be working for some time yet, and
will _let_ Mr Sharnall in if he comes; but I suspect that he has been
invited to spend the night at Fording. Anyhow, you can go to bed with a
clear conscience, Miss Joliffe; you have waited up far beyond your usual
time."

So Miss Euphemia went to bed, and left Westray alone; and a few minutes
later the four quarter-chimes rang, and the tenor struck twelve, and
then the bells fell to playing a tune, as they did every three hours day
and night. Those who dwell near Saint Sepulchre's take no note of the
bells. The ear grows so accustomed to them, that quarter by quarter and
hour by hour strike unperceived. If strangers come to stop under the
shadow of the church the clangour disturbs their sleep for the first
night, and after that they, too, hear nothing. So Westray would sit
working late night by night, and could not say whether the bells had
rung or not. It was only when attention was too wide awake that he
heard them, but he heard them this night, and listened while they played
the sober melody of "Mount Ephraim." [See Appendix at end for tune.]

He got up, flung his window open, and looked out. The storm had passed;
the moon, which was within a few hours of the full, rode serenely in the
blue heaven with a long bank of dappled white cloud below, whose edge
shone with an amber iridescence. He looked over