! Anyhow, I felt a singularly
strong sense of reaction and seated myself beside Eileen without a
word. We had gone for a little way on our homeward road before either
of us spoke, and then it was to exchange some quite ordinary remark. I
put out my hand gently, but hers was nowhere to be found, and this
increased my depression. I fell very silent, and then suddenly, when
we were nearly back, I exclaimed--

"I wonder whether you are really glad that I returned?"

"Very!" she said, and there was such deep sincerity in her voice that
the cloud began to lift at once.

Yet I was not in high spirits when I re-entered my familiar room.

PART IV.

LIEUTENANT VON BELKE'S NARRATIVE CONCLUDED

I.

WEDNESDAY.

I woke on Wednesday morning with an outlook so changed that I felt as
if some magician must have altered my nature. Theoretically I had
taken a momentous and dangerous decision at the call of duty, and all
my energies ought to have concentrated on the task of carrying it
through safely, thoroughly, and warily. I had need of more caution
than ever, and of the most constant vigilance--both for the sake of my
skin and my country. As a matter of fact I was possessed with the
recklessness of a man drifting on a plank down a rapid, where taking
thought will not serve him an iota. In vain I preached theoretical
caution to myself--exactly how vainly may be judged by my first
performance in the morning when I found myself alone with Eileen in the
parlour. She suggested that for my own sake I had better be getting
back to my room.

"Will you come and sit there with me?" I asked.

"I may pay a call upon you perhaps."

"After hours of loneliness! And then leave me lonelier than ever! No,
thank you, I shall stay down here."

"In your uniform?" she asked, opening her eyes a little. "No, no, Mr
Belke!"

"Well then, get me a suit of mufti!"

She looked at me hard.

"You will really run that risk?"

"It is now worth it," I said with meaning.

She looked away, and for a moment I thought she was pained--not
displeased, I am sure, but as if something had given her a pang of
sorrow. Then the look passed, and she cried--

"Well, if Tiel agrees!"

"Tiel be hanged! I don't care what he says!"

She began to smile.

"Do you propose to wear my clothes?" she inquired.

"Yours!" I exclaimed.

"Otherwise," she continued, "you must persuade Tiel to agree, for it is
only he who can provide you with a