quiet for a time. You can skip the scenery. I suppose you
got to the house at last?"

"Yes, I got there," continued her father. "You know what a bleak-looking
place it is, right on the side of a bare hill--a square, gray stone
place just the color of the hillside. Well, I got there and walked in.
There was Ted Mathers, half dressed, no collar, with a bottle of whiskey
on the table, playing some wretched game of cards by himself. Elizabeth,
what a brute that man is!"

She shook her head.

"Go on," she said. "What about Wenham?"

"He was there in a corner, gazing out of the window. When I came he
sprang up, but when he saw who it was, he--he tried to hide. He was
afraid of me."

"Why?" she asked.

"He said that I--I reminded him of you."

"Absurd!" she murmured. "Tell me, how did he look?"

"Ill, wretched, paler and thinner than ever, and wilder looking."

"What did Mathers say about him?" she demanded.

"What could he? He told me that he cried all day and begged to be taken
back to America."

"No one goes near the place, I suppose?" she asked.

"Not a soul. A man comes from the village to sell things once a week.
Mathers knows when to expect him and takes care that Wenham is not
around. They are out of the world there--no road, no paths, nothing
to bring even a tourist. I could have imagined such a spot in Arizona,
Elizabeth, but in England--no!"

"Has he any amusements at all?" she inquired.

The man's hands were shaking; once more his eyes went longingly toward
the cupboard.

"He has made--a doll," he said, "carved it out of a piece of wood and
dressed it in oddments from his ties. Mathers showed it to me as a joke.
Elizabeth, it was wonderful--horrible!"

"Why?" she asked him.

"It is you," he continued, moistening his lips with his tongue, "you,
in a blue gown--your favorite shade. He has even made blue stockings and
strange little shoes. He has got some hair from somewhere and parted it
just like yours."

"It sounds very touching," she remarked.

The man was shivering again.

"Elizabeth," he said, "I do not think that he means it kindly. Mathers
took me up into his room. He has made something there which looks like
a scaffold. The doll was hanging by a piece of string from the gallows.
Elizabeth!--my God, but it was like you!" he cried, suddenly dropping
his head upon his arms.

For a moment, a reflection of the terror which had seized him flashed in
her own face. It passed quickly away.