from him,
I should not have deplored the mere detail that Mrs. Ricardo was in one
way filling my own old place in his life.

My visit drew to an end; on the last night I simply had to dine in town
with a wounded friend from the front. It would have been cruel to get
out of it, though Uvo almost tempted me by his keenness that I should
go. I warned him, however, that I should come back early. And I was even
earlier than my word. And Uvo was not in.

"He's gone out with his pipe," said Sarah, looking gratuitously
concerned. "I'm sure I don't know where you'll find him." But this
sounded like an afterthought; and there was a something shifty and yet
wistful in the old body's manner that inclined me to a little talk with
her about the master.

"You don't think he's just gone into the wood, do you, Sarah?"

"Well, he do go there a good deal," said Sarah. "Of course he don't
always go that way; but he do go there."

"Might he have gone into Captain Ricardo's, Sarah?"

"He might," said Sarah, with more than dubious emphasis.

"They're his great friends now, aren't they?" I hazarded.

"Not Captain Ricardo, sir," said Sarah. "I've only seen him in the 'ouse
but once, and that was when Miss Hamy was married; but we 'ad all sorts
then." And Sarah looked as though the highways and hedges had been
scoured for guests.

"But do you see much more of Mrs. Ricardo, Sarah?"

"I don't, sir, but Mr. Hugo do," said Sarah, for once off her loyal
guard. "He sees more of her than his ma would like."

"Come, come, Sarah! She's a charming lady, and quite the belle of the
Estate."

"That may be, sir, but the Estate ain't what it was," declared Sarah,
with pregnant superiority. "There's some queer people come since I was
with pore Mr. Nettleton."

"What about Mr. Nettleton himself, Sarah?"

"Mr. Nettleton was always a gentleman, sir, though he did try to set
fire to the 'ouse with my methylated."

I left the old dame bobbing in the doorway, and went to look for Uvo in
the wood. I swear I had no thought of spying upon him. What could there
be to spy upon, at half-past nine at night, with Captain Ricardo safe
and grumbling at his own fireside? I had been wasting my last evening at
a club and in the train, and I did not want to miss another minute of
Uvo Delavoye's society.

It was an exquisite night, the year near its zenith and the moon only
less than full. The wood was changed from a beautiful bright picture
into a beautiful b