he deserted dwelling in amazement. All at once
his eyes caught sight of the letter addressed to him, and he tore it
open. It was very brief, and ran thus--

"My Dearest,

"When you read this, I shall be gone from you. I am sorry, oh, so
sorry, about the money--but it is not my fault that I did not know
who old David was. I hope now that everything will be right, when I
am out of the way. I did not tell you--but before I left London I
asked the kind gentleman, Sir Francis Vesey, to let me make a will
in case any accident happened to me on my way home. He arranged it
all for me very quickly--so that everything I possess, including all
the dreadful fortune that has parted you from me,--now belongs to
you. And you will be a great and famous man; and I am sure you will
get on much better without me than with me--for I am not clever, and
I should not understand how to live in the world as the world likes
to live. God bless you, darling! Thank you for loving me, who am so
unworthy of your love! Be happy! David and I will perhaps be able to
watch you from 'the other side,' and we shall be proud of all you
do. For you will spend those terrible millions in good deeds that
must benefit all the world, I am sure. That is what I hoped we might
perhaps have done together--but I see quite plainly now that it is
best you should be without me. My love, whom I love so much more
than I have ever dared to, say!--Good-bye!
MARY."

With a cry like that of a man in physical torture or despair, Angus
rushed out of the house.

"Mary! Mary!" he cried to the tumbling stream and the moonlit sky.
"Mary!"

He paused. Just then the clock in the little church tower struck ten.
The village was asleep--and there was no sound of human life anywhere.
The faint, subtle scent of sweetbriar stole on the air as he stood in a
trance of desperate uncertainty--and as the delicate odour floated by, a
rush of tears came to his eyes.

"Mary!" he called again--"Mary!"

Then all at once a fearful idea entered his brain that filled him as it
were with a mad panic. Rushing up the coombe, he sprang across the
torrent, and raced over the adjoining hill, as though racing for life.
Soon in front of him towered the "Giant's Castle" Rock, and he ran up
its steep ascent with an almost crazy speed. At the summit he halted
abruptly, loo