into
the road, he thought he saw someone under the porch of his house and
hurried, his mind alive to the chance of meeting Tenney, searching for
her. The figure did not move and as he went up to the house a voice
called to him. It was Amelia's.

"O John, is that you? I can't see how you can leave the house alone to
go wandering off in the woods and never saying a word."

There she was in her fur coat, not so much frightened, he thought, as
hurt. She was querulous with agitation.

"All right, Milly," he said, and put an arm through hers, "here I am.
And the house isn't alone. Don't get so nervous. Next thing you know,
you'll have to see a specialist."

"And Charlotte's gone," she lamented sharply, allowing him to march her
in and turning, in the warm hall, to confront him. "Here I've been all
alone."

"Where's Jerry?"

Raven had thrown off his hat and coat and frankly owned himself tired.

"In the kitchen. But he won't tell where Charlotte is. He says she's
gone up along."

"Well, so she has, to a neighbor's. Come into the library and get 'het'
through before you go to bed."

"And," she lamented, letting him give her a kindly push toward the door,
"I've got to pack, myself, if Charlotte doesn't come."

"Pack?" He stared at her. "You're not leaving?"

"Yes, John." She said it portentously, as bidding him remember he might
be sorry when she was no more. "I'm going. Dick has telegraphed."

"Anything the matter?"

"That's it. I don't know. If I did, I could decide. He orders me, simply
orders me, to take the early train. What do you make of it?"

Raven considered. Actually, he thought, Dick was carrying out his
benevolent plan of getting her back, by hook or crook.

"I don't believe I'd worry, Milly," he said, gravely, "but I think you'd
better go."

"Yes," she said, "that's it. I don't dare not to. Something may be the
matter. I've tried to telephone, but he doesn't answer. I must go."

XXII

Raven always remembered that as the night of his life, up to this
present moment, the mountain peak standing above the waters of his
discontent. The top of the mountain, that was what lifted itself in an
island inexpressibly green and fair above those sullen depths, and on
this, the island of deliverance, he was to stand. After he had reasoned
Amelia into her room and persuaded her to leave her packing till the
morning, he went up to his own chamber, mentally spent and yet keyed to
an exhausting pitch.