gh. He was
not quite sure what she would do--cry probably, and remonstrate; but it
would soon be over and he would be at peace once more.

He dressed slowly and with his usual care. It would be easier to speak
with authority if there was no doubt about his appearance. He decided
to walk, and he passed through the garden into the town, his head a
buzzing repetition of the words that he meant to say. It was a
beautiful evening; a soft mist hid the moon's sharper outline, but she
shone, a vague circlet of light through a little fleet of fleecy white
cloud. Although it was early in September, some of the trees were
beginning to change their dark green into faint gold, and the sharp
outline of their leaves stood out against the grey pearl light of the
sky. As he passed into the principal street of Pendragon, Robin drew
his coat closer about him, like some ancient conspirator. He had no
wish to be stopped by an inquisitive friend; his destination demanded
secrecy. Soon the lights and asphalt of the High Street gave place to
dark, twisting paths and cobbled stones. These obscure and narrow ways
were rather pathetic survivals of the old Pendragon. At night they had
an almost sinister appearance; the lamps were at very long intervals
and the old houses leaned over the road with a certain crazy
picturesqueness that was, at the same time, exceedingly dangerous.
There were few lights in the windows and very few pedestrians on the
cobbles; the muffled roar of the sea sounded close at hand. And,
indeed, it sprang upon you quite magnificently at a turn of the road.
To-night it scarcely moved; a ripple as the waves licked the sand, a
gentle rustle as of trees in the wind when the pebbles were dragged
back with the ebb--that was all. It seemed strangely mysterious under
the misty, uncertain light of the moon.

The houses facing the sea loomed up darkly against the horizon--a black
contrast with the grey of sea and sky. It was No. 4 where the Feverels
lived. There was a light in the upper window and some one was playing
the piano. Robin hesitated for some minutes before ringing the bell.
When it had rung he heard the piano stop. For a few seconds there was
no sound; then there were steps in the passage and the door was opened
by the very dowdy little maid-of-all-work whose hands were always dirty
and whose eyes were always red, as though with perpetual weeping.

With what different eyes he saw the house now! On his fir