lose time? Don't
delay, my good girl! Come!'

Evan had opened the door. He would not allow Polly an instant for
expostulation; but drew her out, saying, 'You will attend to the gates
yourself. Or come and tell me the day, if she appoints another.'

Polly made a final effort to escape from the pit she was being pushed
into.

'Mr. Harrington! it wasn't to tell you this I wrote.

Miss Rose is engaged, sir.'

'I understand,' said Evan, hoarsely, scarcely feeling it, as is the case
with men who are shot through the heart.

Ten minutes later he was on horseback by the Fallow field gates, with the
tidings shrieking through his frame. The night was still, and stiller in
the pauses of the nightingales. He sat there, neither thinking of them
nor reproached in his manhood for the tears that rolled down his cheeks.
Presently his horse's ears pricked, and the animal gave a low neigh.
Evan's eyes fixed harder on the length of gravel leading to the house.
There was no sign, no figure. Out from the smooth grass of the lane a
couple of horsemen issued, and came straight to the gates. He heard
nothing till one spoke. It was a familiar voice.

'By Jove, Ferdy, here is the fellow, and we've been all the way to
Lymport!'

Evan started from his trance.

'It 's you, Harrington?'

'Yes, Harry.'

'Sir!' exclaimed that youth, evidently flushed with wine, 'what the devil
do you mean by addressing me by my Christian name?'

Laxley pushed his horse's head in front of Harry. In a manner apparently
somewhat improved by his new dignity, he said: 'We have ridden to Lymport
to speak to you, sir. Favour me by moving a little ahead of the lodge.'

Evan bowed, and moved beside him a short way down the lane, Harry
following.

'The purport of my visit, sir,' Laxley began, 'was to make known to you
that Miss Jocelyn has done me the honour to accept me as her husband. I
learn from her that during the term of your residence in the house, you
contrived to extract from her a promise to which she attaches certain
scruples. She pleases to consider herself bound to you till you release
her. My object is to demand that you will do so immediately.'

There was no reply.

'Should you refuse to make this reparation for the harm you have done to
her and her family,' Laxley pursued, 'I must let you know that there are
means of compelling you to it, and that those means will be employed.'

Harry, fuming at these postured sentences, burst out:

'What