ter," she laughed, bounding away before he had
time to drop his easel. "Make it a pound!"

I picked up Allan's easel and strolled away after them. Was it the
motoring, I wondered, which had prompted her half-wistful question, or
had I been wise too late? Arthur had been very confident. So much that
he had said had carried with it a certain ring of truth. Youth and the
temperament of youth were surely irresistible. Like calls to like across
the garden of spring flowers with a cry which no interloper can still,
no wanderer of later years can stifle. Somehow it seemed to me just then
that the sun had ceased to shine, and a touch of winter after all was
lingering in the western breeze....

They disappeared round the pine plantation, Isobel leading by a few
yards, her skirts blowing in the wind, running still with superb and
untired grace. I climbed a bank to gain a better view of the finish, and
became suddenly aware that I was not the only interested spectator of
their struggle. About a hundred yards to my left a man was standing on
the top of the same bank, a pair of field-glasses glued to his eyes,
watching intently the spot where they might be expected to reappear. The
sight of him took me by surprise. A few moments ago I could have sworn
that there was not a human being within a mile of us. There was only one
explanation of his appearance. He must have been concealed in the dry
mossy ditch at the foot of the bank. It was possible, of course, that he
might have been like us, a casual way-farer, and yet the suddenness of
his appearance, the intentness of his watch, both had their effect upon
me. I moved a few yards towards him, with what object I perhaps scarcely
knew. A dry twig snapped beneath my feet. He became suddenly aware of my
approach. Then, indeed, my suspicions took definite shape, for without a
moment's hesitation the man turned and strode away in the opposite
direction.

I shouted to him. He took no notice. I shouted again, and he only
increased his pace. I watched him disappear, and I no longer had any
doubts at all. He was not in the least like a tramp, and his flight
could bear but one interpretation. Isobel was not safe even here. We had
been followed from London--we were being watched every hour. For the
first time I began seriously to doubt what the end of these things might
be.

CHAPTER VI

"Silence and perfume and moon-flooded meadows," Allan murmured. "Arnold,
we shall all become corru