e satisfied or not, the better."

The Duke nodded, and turned once more to Cecil.

"I am forced to accept your word, Mr. De la Borne," he said, "and when
my brother confirms your story I shall make a special visit here to
offer you my apologies. Madam," he added, bowing to the Princess, "I
regret to have disturbed your interesting occupation."

Forrest he completely ignored, turning his back upon him almost
immediately. Cecil went out with them into the hall. In a moment the
great front door was opened and closed. Cecil came back into the room,
and the perspiration stood out in great beads upon his forehead. Now
that the Duke had departed, something seemed to have fallen from their
faces. They looked at one another as the ghosts of their real selves
might have looked. Forrest stumbled toward the sideboard. Cecil was
already there.

"The brandy!" he muttered. "Quick!"

CHAPTER XV

Bareheaded, Jeanne walked upon the yellow sands close to the softly
breaking waves. Inland stretched the marshes, with their patches of
vivid green, their clouds of faintly blue wild lavender, their sinuous
creeks stealing into the bosom of the land. She climbed on to a grassy
knoll, warm with the sun's heat, and threw herself down upon the turf.
She turned her back upon the Hall and looked steadily seawards, across
the waste of sands and pasture-land to where sky and sea met. Here at
least was peace. She drew a long breath of relief, cast aside the book
which she had never dreamed of reading, and lay full length in the
grass, with her eyes upturned to where a lark was singing his way down
from the blue sky.

Andrew came before long, speeding his way out of the village harbour in
his little catboat. She watched him cross the sandy bar of the inlet,
and run his boat presently upon the beach below where she sat. Then she
shook out her skirts and made room for him by her side.

"Really, Mr. Andrew," she said, resting her chin upon her hands, and
looking up at him with her full dark eyes, "you are becoming almost
gallant. Until now, when I have been weary, and have wished to talk to
you, I have had almost to come and fetch you. To-day it is you who come
to me. That is a good sign."

"It is true," he admitted. "I have kept my telescope fixed upon the
sands here for more than an hour. I wanted to see you."

"You have something to tell me about last night?" she asked gravely.

"No!" he answered, "I did not come here to talk about