ents. But the compulsion which
she had felt upon her a moment ago to speak was gone. She no longer
sought to contradict him. Without a word she slipped into the
drawing-room.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE THIEF

Violet Oliver was harassed that night as she had never before been
harassed at any moment of her easy life. She fled to her room. She stood
in front of her mirror gazing helplessly at the reflection of her
troubled face.

"What shall I do?" she cried piteously. "What shall I do?"

And it was not until some minutes had passed that she gave a thought to
whether her window on this night was bolted or not.

She moved quickly across the room and drew the curtains apart. This time
the bolt was shot. But she did not turn back to her room. She let the
curtains fall behind her and leaned her forehead against the glass. There
was a moon to-night, and the quiet garden stretched in front of her a
place of black shadows and white light. Whether a thief lurked in those
shadows and watched from them she did not now consider. The rattle of a
rifle from a sentry near at hand gave her confidence; and all her trouble
lay in the house behind her.

She opened her window and stepped out. "I tried to speak, but he would
not listen. Oh, why did I ever come here?" she cried. "It would have been
so easy not to have come."

But even while she cried out her regrets, they were not all the truth.
There was still alive within her the longing to follow the difficult
way--the way of fire and stones, as it would be for her--if only she
could! She had made a beginning that night. Yes, she had made a beginning
though nothing had come of it. That was not her fault, she assured
herself. She had tried to speak. But could she keep it up? She turned and
twisted; she was caught in a trap. Passion had trapped her unawares.

She went back to the room and bolted the window. Then again she stood in
front of her mirror and gazed at herself in thought.

Suddenly her face changed. She looked up; an idea took shape in her mind.
"Theft," Ralston had said. Thus had he explained the unbolted window. She
must lock up what jewels she had. She must be sure to do that. Violet
Oliver looked towards the window and shivered. It was very silent in the
room. Fear seized hold of her. It was a big room, and furtively she
peered into the corners lest already hidden behind some curtain the thief
should be there.

But always her eyes returned to the window. If she