nothing else in this life can give, and, like a lifting cloud,
reveals the white and distant peaks of that unbroken peace which we
cannot hope to win in our stormy journey through the world.

And so the evening wore away till at last they heard the Squire's loud
voice talking to somebody outside. Presently he came in.

"How is he?" asked Harold. "Will he live?"

"They cannot say," was the answer. "But two great doctors have been
telegraphed for from London, and will be down to-morrow."

CHAPTER XXXI

IDA RECANTS

The two great doctors came, and the two great doctors pocketed their
hundred guinea fees and went, but neither the one nor the other, nor
eke the twain, would commit themselves to a fixed opinion as to Edward
Cossey's chances of life or death. However, one of them picked out a
number of shot from the wounded man, and a number more he left in
because he could not pick them out. Then they both agreed that the
treatment of their local brethren was all that could be desired, and
so far as they were concerned there was an end of it.

A week had passed, and Edward Cossey, nursed night and day by Belle
Quest, still hovered between life and death.

It was a Thursday, and Harold had walked up to the Castle to give the
Squire the latest news of the wounded man. Whilst he was in the
vestibule saying what he had to say to Mr. de la Molle and Ida, a man
rung the bell, whom he recognised as one of Mr. Quest's clerks. He was
shown in, and handed the Squire a fully-addressed brief envelope,
which, he said, he had been told to deliver by Mr. Quest, and adding
that there was no answer bowed himself out.

As soon as he had gone the envelope was opened by Mr. de la Molle, who
took from it two legal-looking documents which he began to read.
Suddenly the first dropped from his hand, and with an exclamation he
snatched at the second.

"What is it, father?" asked Ida.

"What is it? Why it's just this. Edward Cossey has transferred the
mortgages over this property to Quest, the lawyer, and Quest has
served a notice on me calling in the money," and he began to walk up
and down the room in a state of great agitation.

"I don't quite understand," said Ida, her breast heaving, and a
curious light shining in her eyes.

"Don't you?" said her father, "then perhaps you will read that," and
he pushed the papers to her. As he did so another letter which he had
not obse