g upon her.

She was amazed to hear him speak with kindness to Beelzebub, and even
ask the boy if he thought he could manage the ride to Wallarroo.
Beelzebub, abjectly eager to return to favour, professed himself ready
to start at once. And so presently Sybil found herself alone.

The long day passed without event. The loneliness did not oppress her.
She busied herself with preparing delicacies for the sick man, which
Beelzebub could take on the following day. Beelzebub had had smallpox,
and knew no fear.

He did not return from his errand till the afternoon was well advanced.
She went to the door to hear his news, but he was in his least
intelligent mood, and seemed able to tell her very little. By dint of
close questioning she elicited that he had seen Curtis, who had told him
that the man was worse. Beyond this, Beelzebub appeared to know nothing;
and yet there was something about him that excited her attention. He
seemed more than once to be upon the point of saying something, and to
fail at the last moment, as though either his wits or his courage were
unequal to the effort. She could not have said what conveyed this
impression, but it was curiously strong. She tried hard to elicit
further information, but Beelzebub only became more idiotic in response,
and she was obliged to relinquish the attempt.

Mercer came in soon after, and she dismissed the matter from her mind.
But a vivid dream recalled it. She started up in the night, agitated,
incoherent, crying that someone wanted her, someone who could not wait,
and she must go. She could not tell her husband what the dream had been
and in the morning all memory of it had vanished. But it left a vague
disquietude behind, a haunting anxiety that hung heavily upon her. She
could not feel at peace.

Mercer left that morning. He had to go a considerable distance to an
outlying farm. She saw him off from the gate, and then went back into
the house, still with that inexplicable sense of oppression weighing her
down.

She prepared the parcel that she purposed to send to Curtis, and went in
search of Beelzebub. He was sweeping the kitchen.

"I shall want you to go to Wallarroo again to-day," she said. "You had
better start soon, as I should like Mr. Curtis to get this in good
time."

Beelzebub stopped sweeping, and cringed before her.

"Boss gone?" he questioned cautiously.

"Yes," she answered, wondering what was coming.

He drew a little nearer to her, still c