of time, plenty of time! We can't hope to overtake them, with the
start they have already. Just see if there are any signs of intrusion
into the place and report. And now, Mrs. Royston, shall we move on?"

The observatory was a structure strong but singularly light and airy of
effect, poised on the brink of the mountain, above a slant so steep as to
be precipitous indeed, terminating in a sheer vertical descent, after
affording such foothold as the supporting timbers required. A great
landscape it overlooked of wooded range and valley in autumnal tints and
burnished sunset glow, but this made only scant impression on the minds
of both, looking out with preoccupied, unseeing eyes. The balustrade
around the four sides formed the back of a bench, and on this seat
Lillian sank down, still feeble and fluttering, painfully agitated,
acutely aware that, as she had no obvious physical hurt, the nervous
shock she had sustained might scarcely suffice to account for her
persistent claim on his aid and attention. Certainly he was warranted in
thinking anything, all he would, since her wild, impulsive appeal in the
early morning. How had it chanced, that cry from her heart! It was a
triumph in some sort for him, unsought, complete, yet so pitiable, so
mean, that he did not even care for it. His face was not triumphant;
rather, listless, anxious, careworn. He was gazing down toward the
bungalow where Briscoe stood at the head of the flight of the veranda
steps, drawing on his driving gloves, while Fairy-foot, the fine mare,
now resplendent in the least restrictions of harness that might control
her bounding spirits and splendid strength, stood between the shafts of
the dog-cart on the drive, a groom at her head, holding the bit.

Mrs. Briscoe had approached, and they discerned from her husband's
gestures that he was inviting her to accompany him. They could not hear
the words at this distance, but presently Briscoe, the most transparently
candid of men, suddenly whirled and glanced up toward the observatory
across the ravine, showing plainly that the two had become the subject of
conversation.

Lillian was all unstrung, her powers of self-control annulled. She broke
out with as unreasoning a sense of injury as a sensitive child might have
felt. "They are talking about us!" she wailed.

"They are not the first!" Bayne could not restrain his curt, bitter
laugh, the unconscious humor of the suggestion was so patent, albeit the
edge c