eld it in
esteem. Obviously then he was right to take these few disagreeable
twists and turns which would ensure to him a mind free to pursue his
labours. He looked down at the pamphlet however, and his satisfaction
was a trifle impaired.

"I am not sure that this is quite my best work," he said timidly--"a
little hazardous perhaps."

"Would you say that?" asked Thresk.

"Yes, indeed I should." Mr. Hazlewood had the air of one making a
considerable concession. "The very title is inaccurate. _The Prison Walls
must Cast no Shadow_." He repeated the sentence with a certain unction.
"The rhythm is perhaps not amiss but the metaphor is untrue. My son
pointed it out to me. As he says, all walls cast shadows."

"Yes," said Thresk. "The trouble is to know where and on whom the shadow
is going to fall."

Mr. Hazlewood was startled by the careless words. He came to earth
heavily. All was not as yet quite ready for the little trick which had
been devised. The Pettifers had not arrived.

"Perhaps you would like to see your room, Mr. Thresk," he said. "Your bag
has been taken up, no doubt. We will look at my miniatures after tea."

"I shall be delighted," said Thresk as he followed Hazlewood to the door.
"But you must not expect too much knowledge from me."

"Oh!" cried his host with a laugh. "Pettifer tells me that you are a
great authority."

"Then Pettifer's wrong," said Thresk and so stopped. "Pettifer? Pettifer?
Isn't he a solicitor?"

"Yes, he told me that he knew you. He married my sister. They are both
coming to tea."

With that he led Thresk to his room and left him there. The room was over
the porch of the house and looked down the short level drive to the iron
gates and the lane. It was all familiar ground to Thresk or rather to
that other man with whom Thresk's only connection was a dull throb at his
heart, a queer uneasiness and discomfort. He leaned out of the window. He
could hear the river singing between the grass banks at the bottom of the
garden behind him. He would hear it through the night. Then came a
knocking upon his door, and he did not notice it at once. It was repeated
and he turned and said:

"Come in!"

Hubbard advanced with a note upon a salver.

"Mrs. Ballantyne asked me to give you this at once, sir."

Thresk stared at the butler. The name was so apposite to his thoughts
that he could not believe it had been uttered. But the salver was held
out to him and the handwriting upon the e