e long waves were breaking through upon
the rocks, throwing little fountains of spray into the air. The village
which lay at their feet was silent and lifeless--there was, indeed, a
curious absence of sound, except when the incoming waves broke upon the
rocks and ground the pebbles together in their long, backward swish.
Very soon the sleeping country, now wrapped in shadows, would take form
and outline in the light of the rising moon; hedges would divide the
square fields, the black woods would take shape and the hills their
mystic solemnity. But those few minutes were minutes of suspense.
Lessingham was to some extent conscious of their queer, allegorical
significance.

"I have come," he reminded her quite steadily, "for my answer."

She showed him the small bag by her side upon the seat, and touched her
cloak. She was indeed prepared for a journey.

"You see," she told him, "here I am."

His face was suddenly transformed. She was almost afraid of the effect
of her words. She found herself struggling in his arms.

"Not yet," she begged. "Please remember where we are."

He released her reluctantly. A few yards away, they could hear the soft
purring of the six-cylinder engine, inexorable reminder of the passing
moments. He caught her by the hand.

"Come," he whispered passionately. "Every moment is precious."

She hesitated no longer. The open postern gate seemed to him suddenly to
lead down the great thoroughfare of a new and splendid life. He was to
be one of those favoured few to whom was given the divine prize. And
then he stopped short, even while she walked willingly by his side. He
knew so well the need for haste. The gentle murmur of that engine was
inviting him all the while. Yet he knew there was one thing more which
must be said.

"Philippa," he began, "you know what we are doing? We can escape, I
believe. My flight is all wonderfully arranged. But there will be no
coming back. It will be all over when our car passes over the hills
there. You will not regret? You care enough even for this supreme
sacrifice?"

"I shall never reproach you as long as I live," she promised. "I have
made up my mind to come, and I am ready."

"But it is because you care?" he pleaded anxiously.

"It is because I care, for one reason."

"In the great way?" he persisted. "In the only way?"

She hesitated. He suddenly felt her hand grow colder in his. He saw her
frame shiver beneath its weight of furs.

"Don't ask me