, and resumed her
place.

During evening prayers, which follow every night immediately on food,
her face was a study of mutiny. She went to bed early. It was rather
late when we broke up--for once old Ford had been talking of his
squatter's life. As we came out, Dan held up his hand. A dog was
barking. "It's Lass," he said. "She'll wake Pasiance."

The spaniel yelped furiously. Dan ran out to stop her. He was soon back.

"Somebody's been in the orchard, and gone off down to the cove." He ran
on down the path. I, too, ran, horribly uneasy. In front, through the
darkness, came the spaniel's bark; the lights of the coastguard station
faintly showed. I was first on the beach; the dog came to me at once,
her tail almost in her mouth from apology. There was the sound of oars
working in rowlocks; nothing visible but the feathery edges of the
waves. Dan said behind, "No use! He's gone." His voice sounded hoarse,
like that of a man choking with passion.

"George," he stammered, "it's that blackguard. I wish I'd put a bullet
in him." Suddenly a light burned up in the darkness on the sea, seemed
to swing gently, and vanished. Without another word we went back up the
hill. John Ford stood at the gate motionless, indifferent--nothing had
dawned on him as yet. I whispered to Dan, "Let it alone!"

"No," he said, "I'm going to show you." He struck a match, and slowly
hunted the footsteps in the wet grass of the orchard. "Look--here!"

He stopped under Pasiance's window and swayed the match over the ground.
Clear as daylight were the marks of some one who had jumped or fallen.
Dan held the match over his head.

"And look there!" he said. The bough of an apple-tree below the window
was broken. He blew the match out.

I could see the whites of his eyes, like an angry animal's.

"Drop it, Dan!" I said.

He turned on his heel suddenly, and stammered out, "You're right."

But he had turned into John Ford's arms.

The old man stood there like some great force, darker than the darkness,
staring up at the window, as though stupefied. We had not a word to
say. He seemed unconscious of our presence. He turned round, and left us
standing there.

"Follow him!" said Dan. "Follow him--by God! it's not safe."

We followed. Bending, and treading heavily, he went upstairs. He struck
a blow on Pasiance's door. "Let me in!" he said. I drew Dan into my
bedroom. The key was slowly turned, her door was flung open, and there
she stood in her