r dusk. The
cheerful light of Dempsey's cigarette shone a moment in the gloom. Delane
was conscious of an excitement which it took all his will to master. But
he spoke carelessly.

"And what was Mrs. Delane doing there?"

Dempsey chuckled.

"How should I know? Tanner used to have a sister staying with him
sometimes. Perhaps she and Mrs. Delane were friends. But I saw that woman
quite plain. It was Mrs. Delane--that I'll swear. And Miss Henderson is
as like her as two peas. It might have been her sister. Miss Henderson's
very uncommon-looking. You don't often see that complexion and that hair.
And she has lived in Canada."

"How do you know?"

"She told old Halsey. Well, there's my road, just ahead. And if you're
going to Moor End, you keep straight on. The moon's coming up. It won't
be very dark." And with a careless good-night, the Canadian turned a
corner, and disappeared along a road which diverged at a right angle from
the main road, and led, as Delane knew, direct to Ipscombe.

He himself walked on, till he found a lane tunnelled through one of the
deep woods that on their western side ran down to Great End Farm. In the
heart of that wood there was a keeper's hut, disused entirely since the
war. Delane had discovered it, and was quite prepared to spend a night
there at a pinch. There was a rude fireplace in it, and some old sacks.
With some of the fallen wood lying about, a man could make a fire, and
pass a winter night in very tolerable comfort.

He made his way in, managed to prop a sack against the small cobwebbed
window, fastened the door with a rusty bolt, and brought out an electric
torch he always carried in his pocket.

There was not a house within a long distance. There were no keepers now
on Colonel Shepherd's estate. Darkness--the woods--and the wild creatures
in them--were his only companions. Half a mile away, no doubt, Rachel in
her smart new parlour was talking to the Canadian fellow.

_Tanner!_ Ye gods! At last he had the clue to it all.

X

Dempsey did not find Rachel Henderson at home when he called at Great End
Farm, after his meeting with his unknown companion on the common.

Ellesborough and Rachel had gone to London for the day. Ellesborough's
duties at the Ralstone camp were in a state of suspended animation,
since, in these expectant days before the signing of the armistice, there
had been a general slackening, as though by silent and general consent,
in the timber fel