ind that leafy
screen. He hurried his steps, the figure kept pace; he could hear the
rustle of the boughs as it passed, leaping across the intervening spaces
with swift, ape-like bounds. Presently, when it reached that thick
clump of trees, it would leap ahead, crouch, and take aim. Lessing
acted on the impulse of the moment. A doctor's plate shone bright on a
doorway--he pealed the electric bell, and a moment later stood safe
within the entrance hall.

The doctor found his patient wanting in nervous force, prescribed a
tonic, and rose to intimate that the interview was over; then, as the
patient failed to take the hint, explained that he himself was obliged
to go out at once. His opinion of the gravity of the case was increased
when the patient first expressed a wish to accompany him on his walk,
and then bade him good night at the first corner!

And that night Delia was kinder than ever and the savour of life more
alluringly sweet!

During the days that followed Lessing developed a horror of solitude.
The old evenings with a pipe and a book became abhorrent, and on the
nights when he did not go to the corner house, he either dined in town
or invited a friend to share his home repast. It was therefore with
real relief that one Saturday morning he received a telegraphic
invitation from a leisured friend who diversified a roving existence by
flying visits to his country home. The telegram showed the
expansiveness of the man of means, and ran as follows:

"Returning to Moat this afternoon. Try to join me for a week-end.
Car will meet four-thirty on chance.--

"Blakeney."

It was impossible to reply, since Blakeney had dispatched his wire
from Crewe, and was presumably already travelling southwards. The
form of the message showed that no answer was expected, but Lessing
had not the shadow of a doubt as to his own acceptance. He was
thankful for the chance of leaving London behind, and spending the
next two days in Blakeney's cheerful society. He sent a boy home to
get his bag, and carry it to the station, and when the hour for
departure approached, followed by a long and devious route, coming on
the platform just in time to jump into a moving carriage. By this
time he retained little hope of avoiding the espionage of the
Brethren, but as his life grew more precious so did his precautions
increase, and his determination to fight to the last. The smoking
carriage contained