east and slept. But Gabrielle did not
sleep. She watched him lazily and with a strange content.

When he woke the sun was beginning to sink. They walked back along the
ridge in a state that was curiously light-hearted. She seemed to be
able to forget for the first time the fact that he was to leave her
next day. The evening was cool and fresh and the air of the mountain
as clear as spring water. When they came to the descent he insisted on
carrying the bag that held the game. There was a little quarrel and a
reconciliation of kisses. They set off together once more hand in
hand. Halfway down the mountain, on a patch of shining grass, he
slipped, and the weight of the game-bag overbalanced him. Gabrielle
laughed as he fell, but her laugh was lost in the report of the gun.
How the accident happened no one can say, but Radway had blown his
brains out.

VII

The inquest at Roscarna was Biddy Joyce's affair. It was the next best
thing to a wake, and she took the opportunity of having a dhrop
stirrun'--as she put it. The sergeant of the constabulary, an erect
Ulsterman with mutton-chop whiskers, had spread a wide net for his
jury. They came from Joyce's Country, from Iar Connaught, from islands
of the Corrib, like dusty pilgrims. Biddy housed them in the stables,
where they slept it off for a couple of nights. Jocelyn himself
entertained the coroner. He seemed particularly anxious that nothing
in the way of scandal should appear, though he really had no cause for
anxiety, since a man who takes the risk of scrambling down a
mountain-side with his gun loaded, supplies an obvious explanation for
disaster.

Naturally it was Gabrielle who suffered most. From the first she had
behaved extraordinarily well. Nobody had seen the poor child's first
agony of passionate grief; but she had pulled herself together quickly,
leaving Radway's body where it lay, and had hurried down to Roscarna
where she found Jocelyn dosing [Transcriber's note: dozing?] on the
terrace. She had been tight-lipped and pale and awfully quiet, showing
no emotion but an unprofitable desire for speed when she led the
stable-hands up the mountain to the place where she had left her lover.

She did not cry at all until the work was done. Then, in the rough
arms of Biddy, she collapsed pretty thoroughly. Biddy put her to bed,
but she would not stay there. Later in the day she was found wandering
along the passages to the room where Rad