f he does not find us he may return here--he will surely return
here!"

"He cannot return before morning. It is close on midnight already.
Meanwhile you can take a few hours' rest while I devise means of
reaching the lake by some mule-track across the mountain."

It cost him an effort to take this tone with her; but he saw that in her
high-strung mood any other would have been less effective. She rose
slowly, keeping her eyes on him with the look of a frightened child. "I
will do as you wish," she said.

"Let the landlord prepare a bed for you, then. I will keep watch down
here and the horses shall be saddled at daylight."

She stood silent while he went to the door to call the innkeeper; but
when the order was given, and the door closed again, she disconcerted
him by a sudden sob.

"What a burden I am!" she cried. "I had no right to accept this of you."
And she turned and fled up the dark stairs.

The night passed and toward dawn the rain ceased. Odo rose from his
dreary vigil in the kitchen, and called to the innkeeper to carry up
bread and wine to Fulvia's room. Then he went out to see that the horses
were fed and watered. He had not dared to question the landlord as to
the roads, lest his doing so should excite suspicion; but he hoped to
find an ostler who would give him the information he needed.

The stable was empty, however; and he prepared to bait the horses
himself. As he stooped to place his lantern on the floor he caught the
gleam of a small polished object at his feet. He picked it up and found
that it was a silver coat-of-arms, such as are attached to the blinders
and saddles of a carriage-harness. His curiosity was aroused, and
holding the light closer he recognised the ducal crown of Pianura
surmounting the "Humilitas" of the Valseccas.

The discovery was so startling that for some moments he stood gazing at
the small object in his hand without being able to steady his confused
ideas. Gradually they took shape, and he saw that, if the ornament had
fallen from the harness of the traveller who had just preceded them, it
was not Fulvia but he himself who was being pursued. But who was it who
sought him and to what purpose? One fact alone was clear: the traveller,
whoever he was, rode in one of the Duke's carriages, and therefore
presumably upon his sovereign's business.

Odo was still trying to thread a way through these conjectures when a
yawning ostler pushed open the stable-door.

"Your excel