y at the
knees, and looking around at him pitifully. Paul himself was wet to
the skin; and as he dismounted for a moment to ease his stiff limbs,
he was conscious of a distinct inclination to shiver. The grey mists
were rolling up all round them; and directly Paul's feet touched the
ground, he felt himself sink ankle-deep in the wet, soft sand. It was
all horribly uncomfortable, and more than that, it was serious; for
immediately he had passed his hand over his horse's flanks and felt
her knees, Paul knew that she was not in a condition for him to mount
her again. There was no hope of reaching Vaux Abbey without rest and
refreshments, for Ironsides at any rate.

He looked steadily around him, and began to get some faint idea as
to his whereabouts. His mare must have been deceived by following
a private road which led to a cottage belonging to an old half-pay
officer, Major Harcourt. They had evidently passed the cottage, and
pursued the road almost to its termination, for where they now were it
was little better than a sheep-track, leading through a closed gate a
few yards in front of them into a scattered pine plantation and down
to the sea. The only thing to do was to retrace their steps until they
came to the cottage, and there beg shelter for a while.

"We've made a mess of it, old girl!" Paul said soothingly, patting his
mare's neck, and passing his arm through the bridle. "Come on, then!
We'll see whether we can't find an empty stall for you at Major
Harcourt's."

They retraced their steps, the mare limping wearily along by Paul's
side, and every now and then stopping to look at him in despair. Paul
found a grim humour in the situation. It was the quagmire into which
thoughts of Adrea had led him; a parable sent to show him the folly of
such thoughts, and whither they tended. He laughed a little bitterly
at the thought. Once, when a very young man, he had thought himself a
fatalist. After all, perhaps it was the best thing to be! Conscience
and duty were wearisome guides; a course of voluntary drifting would
be rather a relief.

Suddenly the mare pricked up her ears, and neighed. Paul looked
steadily through the mist, and quickened his pace. Scarcely a hundred
yards ahead was the dim outline of the cottage, nestled up against a
pine grove and facing the sea.

Paul was fairly well acquainted with Major Harcourt; and although
he had seen nothing of him for some time, he had not the slightest
compunction in cl