"You refused to take my hand when you came in," he said. "Will you take
it now? I leave Browndown when you leave it; and I won't come back again
till I bring Oscar with me.

"Both hands!" I exclaimed--and took him by both hands. I could say
nothing more. I could only wonder whether I was waking or sleeping; fit
to be put into an asylum, or fit to go at large?

"Come!" he said. "I will see you as far as the rectory gate.

"You can't go to-night," I answered. "The last train has left hours
since."

"I can! I can walk to Brighton, and get a bed there, and leave for London
to-morrow morning. Nothing will induce me to pass another night at
Browndown. Stop! One question before I put the lamp out."

"What is it?"

"Did you do anything towards tracing Oscar, when you were in London
to-day?"

"I went to a lawyer, and made what arrangements with him I could."

"Here is my pocket-book. Write me down his name and address."

I wrote them. He extinguished the lamp, and led me into the passage. The
servant was standing there bewildered. "Good night, James. I am going to
bring your master back to Browndown." With that explanation, he took up
his hat and stick, and gave me his arm. The moment after, we were out in
the dark valley, on our way to the village.

On the walk back to the rectory, he talked with a feverish volubility and
excitement. Avoiding the slightest reference to the subject discussed at
our strange and stormy interview, he returned, with tenfold confidence in
himself, to his old boastful assertion of the great things he was going
to do as a painter. The mission which called him to reconcile Humanity
with Nature; the superb scale on which he proposed to interpret
sympathetic scenery for the benefit of suffering mankind; the prime
necessity of understanding him, not as a mere painter, but as Grand
Consoler in Art--I had it all over again, by way of satisfying my mind as
to his prospects and occupations in his future life. It was only when we
stopped at the rectory-gate that he referred to what had passed between
us--and even then, he only touched on the subject in the briefest
possible way.

"Well?" he said. "Have I won back your old regard for me? Do you believe
there is a fine side to be found in the nature of Nugent Dubourg? Man is
a compound animal. You are a woman in ten thousand. Give me a kiss."

He kissed me, foreign fashion, on both cheeks.

"Now for Oscar!" he shouted cheerfully. He waved his hat