which
carried her small whip felt itself grasped in strong fingers and held
tightly.

"May----"

It was not his fault this time that his mare stood still, and then ran
backwards, dislodging the topmost stones from the grey stone wall with
her hind quarters, and then plunging violently. This time there was
cause for her alarm. A tall, forbidding-looking figure stood in the
middle of the avenue, grasping the rein of Lady May's terrified horse.
He had come out of the twilight so suddenly, and his attire was
so unusual, that Paul and Lady May were almost as surprised as the
animals. Paul's first instinct was one of anger.

"What the----"

He stopped short. The man who had startled them so had quieted Lady
May's horse with a few soothing words, and now stood out of the deep
shade of the overhanging trees into the centre of the avenue. Even
here his face was scarcely visible, but his figure and attire were
sufficient. He wore the long robes and shovel hat of a Roman Catholic
priest.

Paul broke off in the middle of his exclamation, and the arm which had
been grasping his whip tightly sank nervelessly to his side. He was
thankful for the twilight, which concealed the grey shade which had
stolen into his face. Yet now that the blow had fallen, he was calmer
than he had been in some of his anticipations of it. For it had
indeed fallen! In the dusky twilight he had recognised the face of the
priest, changed though it was. He rode up, and addressed him.

"Have you lost your way?" he asked quietly. "This is a private road,
and the gate at the other end is locked."

The priest looked at him steadily for a moment, and then drew on one
side, as though to let them pass.

"I am sorry that I startled your horses," he said, in a soft, pleasant
voice, marked with a strong foreign accent; "I was standing with my
back to you, waiting for the moon to rise behind the ruins there,
and the soft ground made your approach noiseless. And, if I am
trespassing, I am sorry. The steward at the Abbey yonder gave me
permission to wander anywhere around the ruins. I have perhaps
exceeded a little his bounds."

"It is of no consequence," Paul said. "You find the ruins interesting,
then?"

"Very."

"There are some pictures in the Abbey you might care to see--mostly
modern, but there is a Rubens and two Giorgiones."

The priest removed his hat. "I thank you, but I am only interested in
ecclesiastical art. These ruins are more to me than any