pleaded stress of work, occasioned by the arrival of the
Telemachus that morning, and withdrew with Tremayne to the official
quarters, to spend that hour in disposing of some of the many matters
awaiting his attention. Sylvia, who to Lady O'Moy's exasperation seemed
now for the first time to give a thought to what she should wear that
night, went off in haste to gown herself, and so Lady O'Moy was left to
her own resources--which I assure you were few indeed.

The evening being calm and warm, she sauntered out into the open. She
was more or less annoyed with everybody--with Sir Terence and Tremayne
for their assiduity to duty, and with Sylvia for postponing all thought
of dressing until this eleventh hour, when she might have been better
employed in beguiling her ladyship's loneliness. In this petulant mood,
Lady O'Moy crossed the quadrangle, loitered a moment by the table and
chairs placed under the trellis, and considered sitting there to await
the others. Finally, however, attracted by the glory of the sunset
behind the hills towards Abrantes, she sauntered out on to the terrace,
to the intense thankfulness of a poor wretch who had waited there for
the past ten hours in the almost despairing hope that precisely such a
thing might happen.

She was leaning upon the balustrade when a rustle in the pines below
drew her attention. The rustle worked swiftly upwards and round to
the bushes on her right, and her eyes, faintly startled, followed its
career, what time she stood tense and vaguely frightened.

Then the bushes parted and a limping figure that leaned heavily upon
a stick disclosed itself; a shaggy, red-bearded man in the garb of a
peasant; and marvel of marvels!--this figure spoke her name sharply,
warningly almost, before she had time to think of screaming.

"Una! Una! Don't move!"

The voice was certainly the voice of Mr. Butler. But how came that voice
into the body of this peasant? Terrified, with drumming pulses, yet
obedient to the injunction, she remained without speech or movement,
whilst crouching so as to keep below the level of the balustrade the man
crept forward until he was immediately before and below her.

She stared into that haggard face, and through the half-mask of stubbly
beard gradually made out the features of her brother.

"Richard!" The name broke from her in a scream.

"'Sh!" He waved his hands in wild alarm to repress her. "For God's sake,
be quiet! It's a ruined man I am they f