ence by way of
Candlestick Hill and through the wooded country around Holt, back to
Sheringham, where we lunched at the "Burlington."

His manner had changed. He had again become serious and thoughtful. A
cycling map of the district which he had bought in Cromer that morning
he brought out, and as we sat together in the smoking-room he spread it
upon the table and began measuring distances with a slip of folded
paper.

The car was at the door at four o'clock, and we were in the act of
moving off, when by mere chance I looked up at the second floor of the
hotel. What I saw caused me to hold my breath.

A face was at one of the windows watching us.

I nudged my friend, and cried, "Look!"

But when he raised his head it had gone. Indeed, the white face had only
showed there for a single instant, yet it was a countenance that I too
well remembered, it was unmistakable--that of Fraeulein Stolberg!

I told Ray as we whirled along into the town. But he only grunted in
surprise, and remarked that we were going to Beccles.

Why was that woman there instead of being with her mistress, who, we had
ascertained, was now visiting at Cheltenham?

Our way lay first back to Cromer, where we joined the direct Norwich
road by way of Aylsham, but about four miles after passing Cromer the
road divided. The left-hand one ran to our destination, but at Ray's
orders we took the right-hand one, and in the darkening twilight struck
across a wide heath, which I afterwards learnt was called Roughton
Heath, until we passed an old windmill, and entered the small crooked
village of Roughton. We passed beyond the place for a quarter of a mile,
and then descending, walked forward until we came to a good-sized,
comfortable, old-fashioned house, probably of the days of Queen Anne,
that lay behind a high red-brick wall.

Through the iron gates I noticed, as we paused, a wide lawn in front,
with steps leading up to a portico, and behind a large orchard and
meadow. The blinds were already down, but in several of the windows
lights showed, and the place looked well kept up.

It differed but little from hundreds of other old-fashioned houses in
the country, but it evidently held considerable attraction for Ray,
because as we passed beyond the gates, and out of sight of any one in
the house, he took out his electric torch and carefully examined the
muddy roadway.

"See!" he exclaimed, pointing to tracks that ran in and out of the
gateway. "The ca