Claudius, "for I will come back as soon as I
have obtained the necessary proofs of my identity from Heidelberg."

"I never heard of anything so ridiculous," said Margaret hotly. "To go
all that distance for a few papers. As if we did not all know you! If
you are not Dr. Claudius, who are you? Why, Mr. Barker went to
Heidelberg on purpose to find you."

"Nevertheless, Messrs. Screw and Scratch doubt me. Here is their
letter--the last one. Will you look at it?" and Claudius took an
envelope from his pocket-book. He was glad to have come over to the
argumentative tack, for his heart was very sore, and he knew what the
end must be.

"No." The Countess turned to him for the first time, with an
indescribable look in her face, between anger and pain. "No, I will not
read it."

"I wish you would," said Claudius, "you would understand better."
Something in his voice touched a sympathetic chord.

"I think I understand," said the Countess, looking back at the sea,
which was growing dim and indistinct before her. "I think you ought to
go."

The indistinctness of her vision was not due to any defect in her sight.
The wet fog was rising like a shapeless evil genius out of the sluggish
sea, rolling heavily across the little bay to the lovers' beach, with
its swollen arms full of blight and mildew. Margaret shivered at the
sight of it, and drew the lace thing she wore closer to her throat. But
she did not rise, or make any sign that she would go.

"What is the other reason for your going?" she asked at length.

"What other reason?"

"You said your inheritance, or the evidence you require in order to
obtain it, was one of the principal reasons for your going. I suppose
there is another?"

"Yes, Countess, there is another reason, but I cannot tell you now what
it is."

"I have no right to ask, of course," said Margaret,--"unless I can help
you," she added, in her soft, deep voice.

"You have more right than you think, far more right," answered Claudius.
"And I thank you for the kind thought of help. It is very good of you."
He turned towards her, and leaned upon his hand as he sat. Still the fog
rolled up, and the lifeless sea seemed overshed with an unctuous calm.
They were almost in the dark on their strip of beach, and the moisture
was already clinging in great, thick drops to their clothes, and to the
rocks where they sat. Still Claudius looked at Margaret, and Margaret
looked at the narrow band of oily water still u