was bewildered
at the expression of this spontaneous love, which to him was so
completely unforeseen, which was at once so humble and so passionate.
It wounded him in his love for Isabel, as though he had committed an
offence in listening to the girl's avowal. Yet she spoke so gently;
and it was so strange to see this proud and beautiful creature bowing
before him with such reverence that he could not but experience a
certain emotion.

"I love another woman," he repeated, to set up definitely the obstacle
of this love, "and nothing can come between us."

"Yes," she said. "Nevertheless I hoped . . . I don't know what. . . .
I had no object in view. . . . I only wanted us to be alone together,
just the two of us, as long as possible. It's over now. I swear it.
. . . We shall find Miss Bakefield. . . . Let me take you to her: I
think I shall be better able than you. . . ."

Was she sincere? How could he reconcile this offer of devotion with
the passion to which she had confessed?

"What proof have you?" asked Simon.

"What proof of my loyalty? The absolute acknowledgement of the wrong
which I have done and which I wish to repair. This morning, when I
came here alone, I looked all over the ground to see if there was
anything that might give us a clue and I ended by discovering on the
edge of this rock a scrap of paper with some writing on it. . . ."

"Have you it?" cried Simon, sharply. "Has she written? Miss Bakefield,
I mean?"

"Yes."

"It's for me, of course?" continued Simon, with increasing excitement.

"It's not addressed. But of course it was written for you just as
yesterday's message was. Here it is. . . ."

She held out a piece of paper, moist and crumpled, on which he read
the following words, hastily scribbled in Isabel's hand:

"No longer making for Dieppe. They have heard a rumour
of a fountain of gold . . . a real, gushing spring, it
seems. We are going in that direction. No immediate
cause for anxiety."

And Dolores added:

"They left before daybreak, going up the river. If this river is
really the Somme, we must suppose that they have crossed it somewhere,
which will have delayed them. So we shall find them, Simon."

CHAPTER III

SIDE BY SIDE

The jaded horse was incapable of further service. They had to abandon
it, after emptying the saddle-bags and removing the rug, which Dolores
wrapped about her like a soldier's cloak.

They set out again. Hencefo