aiming shelter for himself and his horse. He led her
up the trim, winding drive to the front door, and rang the bell.

"Is Major Har----" Paul began, as the door was opened; then he broke
off abruptly.

The man-servant who had opened the door, and was standing on the step,
peering out into the darkness, was a familiar figure to him. It was
Gomez!

CHAPTER XIV

"THE POISON OF HONEY FLOWERS"

The recognition was not immediately simultaneous. Gomez, standing on
the step, was in the full light of the hall lamp, but Paul was still
amongst the shadows.

"Don't you know me, Gomez?" Paul asked, stepping forward. "I am Paul
de Vaux."

A shade passed across the man's face, and he laid his hand quickly
upon his heart, as though to cease some sudden pain. Then he stood on
one side, holding the door open.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Paul; I could not see your face out there.
Won't you walk in, sir?"

Paul dropped his mare's bridle and stepped inside. The polished
white stone hall, with its huge fire in the centre, looked warm and
comfortable, and away in the distance there was a cheerful rattle of
teacups.

"What are you doing here, Gomez?" Paul asked, shaking the wet from
his hat. "I understood that you were going to take the under-bailiff's
place."

"Higgs has not left yet, sir," Gomez answered. "I have been living
here as caretaker for Major Harcourt."

"Caretaker! Isn't he at home then?"

Gomez shook his head, looking keenly at Paul all the time. "Major
Harcourt does not winter here now, sir. He has let the place,
furnished."

"What a confounded nuisance! To whom has he let it?" Paul asked
quickly. "You see my plight, and my horse is worse off still. We lost
our way going home from Dunston Spinnies."

"Major Harcourt's tenant is a lady," Gomez answered, after a moment's
hesitation. "She only arrived yesterday."

Paul shrugged his shoulders. He was annoyed, but there was no help for
it.

"Well, will you see her at once and represent matters? I want a loose
box for the night for my horse, and a rest for myself, and afterwards
a conveyance for the Abbey, if possible. Tell her my name. I daresay
she won't mind. Who is she?"

Gomez said nothing for a moment. Then he drew Paul back to the door,
and pointed out into the darkness.

"Mr. Paul," he said, in a quick, hoarse whisper, "at the back of that
hedge there is a road which leads straight up to the Abbey. It is
a matter of six miles or so, I know, a