must
pay. Well, I will pay it to the uttermost farthing. Then I will go away,
and live my new life."

He was not long in reaching the house, and he was admitted without a
word.

CHAPTER XXX

THE MAN WHO ROSE AGAIN

The servant opened the door of the drawing-room, which, although the sun
had set, was far from dark. The time was summer, and the air was so
clear that darkness seemed impossible.

"I will light a lamp, and then I will tell Miss Castlemaine that you are
here," she said.

"No, no," said Leicester, almost eagerly; "do not trouble about a lamp.
It would be a pity to spoil the light of the moon. Besides, it is almost
as light as day. Tell Miss Castlemaine that I am waiting here, will
you?"

The servant went away without a word; she did not pay much attention to
the gentleman's behaviour. What could be expected of these strange men
from the East? They could not be expected to act like civilised
Englishmen.

"Signor Ricordo is in the drawing-room, miss," she said to Olive. "I
wanted to light the lamps, but he asked me not to. He said the moonlight
was so very beautiful."

Olive laughed almost nervously. She had been in a state of suspense all
the day. She had expected him soon after breakfast, and she wondered,
with many fears in her heart, why he had not come. If she had known all
that had been in Leicester's mind that day, she would have feared still
more. More than once she had felt angry. To say the least, it was
strange that after she had promised to be his wife in the evening, he
should fail to come to her in the morning, and she realised more than
ever that strange dread of her promised husband. Besides, the thought of
Leicester had come back to her again. She remembered how, after they
were engaged, he spent every moment he could tear himself away from his
affairs at her side. This man, on the other hand, had spent the whole
day away from her, while only a narrow valley lay between them. All
sorts of strange questions haunted her, and especially was she anxious
when her father asked her why he had not come according to his promise.
Every hour of the day she had expected him, and when, after the storm
had passed, John Castlemaine drove away to dine at a neighbouring house,
a feeling of utter loneliness fell upon her.

But he had come now, and she hurried towards him. When she entered the
room, she saw him only dimly. He was standing in a part of the room
where dark shadows fell. She we