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      Having exhausted conjecture, they watched the two horsemen as they picked their way up the trail from the hut, and presently Bill caught sight of Howard, and sent up a Coo-ee, which Esmeralda, as in duty bound, answered.


      "It is very good of you to come to us," she said, gratefully; "it seems a great while since I have seen any friendly face."


      It was not without a sense of relief that Bergan soon after closed the door of the old Hall behind him, and stepped out into the cool, fresh night air. Not that he had suffered any real trial of temptation,his principles were too true and firm for that;but there had been something in the whole sombre scenethe deserted, death-scented chamber, the concealed closet, the hoarded goldthat had left him with a sense of oppression, which kept its hold of him all the way home."Who was it, Isola?"

      "No, no, no!" she cried passionately. "I have had enough of life. They are dear to me, very dear. No wife ever loved and honoured her husband more than I love and honour minebut it is all over, it is past, and ended. I am more than resigned to deathI am thankful that God has called me away."

      "It may stand for Offero's idea of the face which he cannot see," suggested Astra, in a low voice.Norman laughed good-temperedly.


      "And what would Doctor Remy call it?" she asked, but without any answering smile.

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      Daniel Hazelrigg came into the room while she was talking of him, a large man, with a bald head and sandy beard, a genial-looking man, pleased with a world in which he had been permitted always to foresee the rise and fall of stocks. The Hazelriggs were the very type of a comfortable couple, so steeped in prosperity and the good things of this world as to be hardly aware of any keener air outside the gardenia-scented atmosphere of their own house; hardly aware of men who dined badly or women who made their own gowns; much less of men who never dined at all, or[Pg 193] women who flung themselves despairing from the parapets of the London bridges.

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      [Pg 182]"Inasmuch," said he, "as Mr. Islay is able to speak so intelligently of religious faith, because of his thorough acquaintance therewith, so, doubtless, his remarks upon crime and its effects are the outcome of his own personal experience."

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      Varley only smiled.Bergan only shook his head. And after a moment's study of his grave face, Mrs. Lyte, very quietly, as if it were a matter in which she had no concern, mentioned the report that had been brought her. As quietly, Bergan told her the whole story of his stay at the Hall:doing so the more readily, it needs not to be said to those anywise skilled in the intricacies of the human mind, because he felt that it was not required of him. For, though Mrs. Lyte listened with the kindest interest and sympathy, she took care to show by her manner that she did so more to satisfy him than herself. In matters like this, she was accustomed to trust her instincts more implicitly than her reason; and she was wise enough to know that trust is the short road to truth, in all characters not radically bad.


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