as all Denzil said on the way.

But no; Lilian was not at the cottage. Quarrier stood in the porch,
looking about him as if he imagined that the lost one might be hiding
somewhere near.

"I shall go--over there," he said. "It will take a long time."

"What?"----

"Liversedge is rowing round, with drags.--Go in and wait.--You may be
wrong."

"I didn't say I _thought_ it! It was only a fear--a dreadful
possibility."

Again she burst into tears.

"Go in and rest, Mrs. Wade," he said, more gently. "You shall know--if
anything"----

And, with a look of unutterable misery, he turned away.

Lilian might have taken refuge somewhere in the fields. It seemed a
wild unlikelihood, but he durst not give up hope. Though his desire was
to reach the waterside as quickly as possible, he searched on either
hand as he went by the path, and once or twice he called in a loud
voice "Lilian!" The night was darker now than when Mrs. Wade had passed
through the neighbouring field; clouds had begun to spread, and only
northwards was there a space of starry brilliance.

He came in sight of the trees along the bank, and proceeded at a
quicker step, again calling Lilian's name more loudly. Only the
soughing wind replied to him.

The nearest part of the water was that where it was deepest, where the
high bank had a railing; the spot where Mrs. Wade and Lilian had stood
together on their first friendly walk. Denzil went near, leaned across
the rail, and looked down into featureless gloom. Not a sound beneath.

He walked hither and thither, often calling and standing still to
listen. The whole sky was now obscured, and the wind grew keener.
Afraid of losing himself, he returned to the high bank and there
waited, his eyes fixed in the direction whence the boat must come. The
row along the river Bale from Polterham would take more than an hour.

As he stood sunk in desperate thoughts, a hand touched him. He turned
round, exclaiming "Lilian!"

"It is I," answered Mrs. Wade's voice.

"Why have you come? What good can you do here?"

"Don't be angry with me!" she implored. "I couldn't stay at home--I
couldn't!"

"I don't mean to speak angrily.--Think," he added, in low shaken voice,
"if that poor girl is lying"----

A sob broke off his sentence; he pointed down into the black water.
Mrs. Wade uttered no reply, but he heard the sound of her weeping.

They stood thus for a long time, then Denzil raised his hand.

"Look! They are com