olt. But the face of the old man gave no
sign, no one could have guessed whether he now believed all or believed
nothing. Certainly he was proving himself an astonishingly apt pupil,
his years of practical experience with the machines admirably
supplementing Constans's theoretical knowledge. It was not until mid-day
that he gave the order to shut down the engines, and Constans was at
liberty.

He walked rapidly in the direction of Arcadia House, for this was the
hour of the principal meal with the Doomsmen, and the streets were
entirely deserted. The abnormally high temperature of yesterday still
prevailed, although the sky was clear, and everywhere could be heard the
sound of running and dripping water. The snow, that twenty-four hours
ago lay a foot deep upon the ground, was now a mass of slush, making
locomotion exceedingly disagreeable. How hot the sun was! it might have
been midsummer instead of the last of March; how oddly sounded the
premature chirping of the birds in the leafless trees!

Arcadia House was once more in sight, and Constans's first thought was
for the signal. It was still flying from the cupola window, but that
fact, of itself, meant little. All or nothing might have happened in the
twenty-four hours that had elapsed since its first setting.

The rope-ladder was in its hiding-place, and Constans, by its aid, was
quickly on the garden wall. Here he waited for an instant, to look and
listen.

All was quiet, and there was no sign of life in the closely shuttered
house. The snow in this exposed and sunny enclosure had entirely
disappeared; there would be no fear of his footprints being noticed. The
dogs--but Esmay had assured him that they would be kept in leash so long
as the signal was flying. He wasted no further time in reflection, but
descended into Quinton Edge's garden.

The plantation of spruce-trees screened him for the moment; then he ran
swiftly across the open space and reached the shelter of the pavilion.
It was empty, but he had expected that; he had previously set his
answering signal at the window of a house overlooking the garden at the
back, and he would now have to wait until Esmay should find opportunity
to join him.

An hour passed, and there was no sign of her appearance. Constans grew
restless, impatient, uneasy, until finally inaction became intolerable.
Certainly Esmay should have come by this time, supposing that she had
observed his answering signal. She might be absen