the front and risked his
life flying a 'bomber' over the enemy's lines. You were a miserable
stay-at-home, hiding in your little bolt-hole in Whitehall when the
Zepps came over, while Hugh Henfrey fought for his King and for Britain.
Now I am quite frank, Mr. Sherrard. That's why I despise you!" and the
girl's pale face showed two pink spots in the centre of her cheeks.

"Really," he said in that same superior tone which he so constantly
assumed. "I must say that you are the reverse of polite, Miss Dorise,"
and his colour heightened.

"I am! And I intend to be so!" she cried in a frenzy, for all her
affection for Hugh had in those moments been redoubled. Her lover was
accused and had no chance of self-defence. "Go back to my mother," she
went on. "Tell her every word I have said and embroider it as much as
you like. Then you can both put your wits together a little further.
But, remember, I shall exert my own woman's wits against yours. And as
soon as you feel it practicable, I hope you will leave Blairglas. And
further, if you have not left by noon to-morrow, I will tell my maid,
Duncan, the whole story of this sinister plot to part me from Hugh. She
will spread it, I assure you. Maids gossip--and to a purpose when their
mistresses will it so."

"But Dorise--"

"Enough! Mr. Sherrard. I prefer to walk up to the Castle by myself.
Murray will bring up the rods. Please tell my mother what I say when you
get back," she added. "The night train from Perth to London leaves at
nine-forty to-night," she said with biting sarcasm.

Then turning, she began to ascend the steep path which led from the
river bank into a cornfield and through the wood, while the man stood
and bit his lip.

"H'm!" he growled beneath his breath. "We shall see!--yes, we shall
see!"

FOURTEENTH CHAPTER

RED DAWN

That night when Dorise, in a pretty, pale-blue evening gown, entered
the great, old panelled dining-room rather late for dinner, her mother
exclaimed petulantly:

"How late you are, dear! Mr. Sherrard has had a telegram recalling him
to London. He has to catch the nine-something train from Perth."

"Have you?" she asked the man who was odious to her. "I'm so sorry I'm
late, but that Mackenzie girl called. They are getting up a bazaar for
the old people down in the village, and we have to help it, I suppose.
Oh! these bazaars, sales of work, and other little excuses for
extracting shillings from the pockets of everybody! They a