Mr. Brimberly stared, coughed, and fumbled for his whisker, whence his
hand wandered to his brow and hovered there.

"I--I bid you good night, sir!"

"Oh, by the way, bring me the letters."

"Certingly, sir!" and crossing the room, Mr. Brimberly returned, bearing
a salver piled high with letters, which he set at his master's elbow;
this done, he bowed and went from the room, one hand still at his dazed
brow.

Left alone, Ravenslee took up the letters one by one. Some he threw
aside, some few he opened and glanced at carelessly; among these last
was a telegram, and the words he saw were these:

"Meet me to-morrow sunset in the wood all shall be explained Hermy."

For a while he sat staring at this, then, laying it by, drew out a
letter case from which he took another telegram bearing precisely the
same message. Having compared them, he thrust them into his pocket, and
filling his pipe, sat awhile smoking and lost in thought. At last, his
pipe being out, he rose, stretched, and turned toward the door, but in
the act of leaving the room, paused to take out and compare the
telegrams again and so stood with puckered brow.

"'Hermy!'" he said softly. "'Hermione' is so much prettier. 'All shall
be explained.' A little trite, perhaps! Oh, well--" So saying, he folded
up the telegrams, switched off the lights and went to bed.

CHAPTER XXXIII

OF TRAGEDY

It was close on the hour of sunset when Ravenslee stopped his car before
a quiet hotel in Englewood and sprang out.

"Will you be long, sir?" enquired Joe, seating himself at the wheel and
preparing to turn into the garage.

"Probably an hour, Joe."

"Very good, sir."

But as the big car turned, Ravenslee spoke over his shoulder.

"By the way, if I shouldn't be back in an hour, come and meet me." Then,
having given Joe full and particular directions as to the little wood,
he turned and went upon his way.

It had been a stifling day, and even now, though a soft air was abroad
tempering the humid heat, when this light wind languished there was over
all things a brooding stillness, foreboding storm. But Ravenslee strode
on, unheeding dust and heat, hastening on to that which awaited him,
full of strength and life and the zest of life, glad-hearted, and with
pulses that throbbed in expectation. Thus, as the sun sank in fiery
splendour, he reached the little wood. Evening was falling, and already,
among the trees, shadows were deepening to twilight, but i