steaming by them on every side.
And I am sure it was all that Mrs. Zabriskie heard also, as with hand
pressed to her heart, and eyes fixed on the opposite shore, she waited
for the event which was to determine whether the man she loved was a
criminal or only a being afflicted of God and worthy of her unceasing
care and devotion.

As the sun cast its last scarlet gleam over the water, the boat
grounded, and Violet was enabled to have one passing word with Mrs.
Zabriskie. She hardly knew what she said but the look she received in
return was like that of a frightened child.

But there was always to be seen in Mrs. Zabriskie's countenance this
characteristic blending of the severe and the childlike, and beyond an
added pang of pity for this beautiful but afflicted woman, Violet let
the moment pass without giving it the weight it perhaps demanded.

"The doctor and his wife had a long talk last night," was whispered in
her ear as she wound her way with the rest into the heart of the woods.
With a start she turned and perceived her employer following close
behind her. He had come by another boat.

"But it did not seem to heal whatever breach lies between them," he
proceeded. Then, in a quick, anxious tone, he whispered: "Whatever
happens, do not lift your veil. I thought I saw a reporter skulking in
the rear."

"I will be careful," Violet assured him, and could say no more, as they
had already reached the ground which had been selected for this trial
at arms, and the various members of the party were being placed in their
several positions.

The doctor, to whom light and darkness were alike, stood with his face
towards the western glow, and at his side were grouped the inspector and
the two physicians. On the arm of one of the latter hung Dr. Zabriskie's
overcoat, which he had taken off as soon as he reached the field.

Mrs. Zabriskie stood at the other end of the opening near a tall stump,
upon which it had been decided that the clock should be placed when the
moment came for the doctor to show his skill. She had been accorded the
privilege of setting the clock on this stump, and Violet saw it shining
in her hand as she paused for a moment to glance back at the circle of
gentlemen who were awaiting her movements. The hands of the clock stood
at five minutes to five, though Violet scarcely noted it at the time,
for Mrs. Zabriskie was passing her and had stopped to say:

"If he is not himself, he cannot be trusted. Wat