ll's eyes; and there was made visible to him a shadowy legion of
men marching in the van, the men who had left ease and women and all the
grace of life behind them and had gone out to die in the harness of
service--one in this, one in that corner of the untravelled world, and
now all reunited in a strong fellowship. The vision remained with him
after the last strains of music had died away, and faded slowly. He
waked to the lights and clamour of the restaurant and turned to Stella
Croyle.

"Stella," he began, and----

"I know," she interrupted in a small voice. She was sitting with her
head downcast and her hands clenched upon her lap so tightly that the
skin was white about the points where the tips of her fingers pressed.
"Perhaps I shan't suffer so very much."

She was careful not to lift her head, and when a few moments later their
host gave the signal to move, she rose quickly and turned her back on
Luttrell.

The party motored back through the Dyurgarden, past the glimmering tents
where the Boy-Scouts were encamped to the great hotel by the
landing-stage. There a wait of a few minutes took place whilst Hardiman
settled for the cars, and during that wait Luttrell disappeared. He
rejoined his friends at the harbour steps and when the launch put off
towards the _Dragonfly_, he found himself side by side with Stella
Croyle. In the darkness she relaxed her guard. Luttrell saw the great
tears glisten on her dark eyelashes and fall down her cheeks.

"I am sorry, Stella," he whispered, dropping his hand on hers, and she
clutched it and let it go.

"Perhaps I shan't suffer so very much," she repeated and the next moment
the gangway light shone down upon their faces. Stella dropped her head
and furtively dried her cheeks.

"I want to go up last," she said, "and just behind you, so that no one
shall see what a little fool I am making of myself."

But by some subtle understanding already it was felt amongst that group
of people, quick to perceive troubles of the emotions, that something
was amiss between the pair. They were left alone upon the deck. Stella
by chance looking southwards to the starlit gloom, Luttrell to the
north, where still the daylight played in blue and palest green and the
delicate changing fires of the opal.

"What will you do, Stella?" Luttrell asked gently.

"I think I will go and live in the country," she replied.

"It will be lonely, child."

"There will be ghosts, my dear, to keep me c