ome other development, but he heard and saw
nothing.

He caught no further glimpse of Ella, whom the green depths of the
spinney hid well; and he heard no more shots.

After a little, he left the spot where he had been waiting and went
across to where he had seen her.

The exact spot where she had entered the spinney was marked, for she
had broken the branch of a young tree in brushing quickly by it, and a
bramble she had trodden on had not yet lifted itself from the earth to
which she had pressed it.

By other signs like these, plain enough and easy to read--for she had
hurried on in great haste and without care, almost, indeed, as one who
fled from some great danger or from some dreadful sight, and who had no
thought to spare save for flight alone--he followed the way she had gone
till it took him to a beaten public path that almost at once led over a
stile to the high road which passed in front of Bittermeads. Along this
beaten path, trodden by many, Ella's light foot had left no perceptible
mark, and Dunn made no attempt to track her further, since it seemed
certain that she had been simply hurrying back home.

"She was badly frightened over something or another," he said to
himself. "She never stopped once, she went as straight and quick as she
could. I wonder what upset her like that?"

He went back the way he had come, and at the spot where he had seen her
enter the spinney he set to work to pick up her trail in the direction
whence she had appeared, for he thought that if he followed it he might
find out what had been the cause of her evident alarm.

The ground was much more open here, and the trail correspondingly more
difficult to follow, for often there was little but a trodden blade of
grass to show where she had passed; and sometimes, where the ground was
bare and hard, there was no visible sign left at all.

Once or twice at such places he was totally at fault, but by casting
round in a wide circle like a dog scenting his prey he was able to pick
up her tracks again.

They seemed to lead right into the depths of the wood, through lonely
spots that only the keepers knew, and where others seldom came.

But that he was on the right trail he presently had proof, for on
the bank of a lovely and hidden dell he picked up a tiny embroidered
handkerchief with the initials "E. C." worked in one corner.

It had evidently been lying there only a very short time, for it was
perfectly clean and fresh, and h