them. She knows how it wasn't you but Ernst who was her real friend, and
how you didn't want her to live with you. She knows that you're a mighty
unfortunate creature and a mighty dangerous one; and what I advise you
to do, Mercedes, is to get out here and go right home. Karen won't ever
come back to you again, I'm as sure of it as I'm sure my name's Hannah
Talcott."

They sped, with softly singing speed, through the chill morning air. The
hard, tight, dark eyeballs still fixed themselves on the old woman
almost lifelessly, and still she sat grasping the side of the car. She
had the look of a creature shot through the heart and maintaining the
poise and pride of its startled and arrested life. Mechanical forces
rather than volition seemed to sustain her.

"Say, Mercedes, will you get out?" Mrs. Talcott repeated. And the rigid
figure then moved its head slightly in negation.

They reached the cross-roads where a few carts and an ancient fly stood
waiting for the arrival of the omnibus that plied between the Lizard and
Helston. Karen was nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps she went across the fields and got into the bus at the Lizard,"
said Mrs. Talcott. "We'll wait and see, and if she isn't in the bus
we'll go on to Helston. Perhaps she's walking."

Madame von Marwitz continued to say nothing, and in a moment they heard
behind them the clashing and creaking of the omnibus. It drew up at the
halt and Karen was not in it.

"To Helston," said Mrs. Talcott, standing up to speak to the chauffeur.

They sped on before the omnibus had resumed its journey.

Tints of azure and purple crept over the moors; the whitening sky showed
rifts of blue; it was a beautiful morning. Mrs. Talcott, keeping a keen
eye on the surrounding country, became aware presently that Mercedes had
turned her gaze upon her and was examining her.

She looked round.

There was no anger, no resentment, even, on the pallid face. It seemed
engaged, rather, in a deep perplexity--that of a child struck down by
the hand that, till then, had cherished it. It brooded in sick wonder on
Mrs. Talcott, and Mrs. Talcott looked back with her ancient, weary eyes.
Madame von Marwitz broke the silence. She spoke in a toneless voice.
"Tallie--how could you?" she said. "Oh, Tallie--how could you have told
her?"

"Mercedes," said Mrs. Talcott, gently but implacably, "I had to. It was
right to make sure you shouldn't get hold of her again. She had to go,
and she had to g