e present state of
affairs, she did not know whether that might be permitted: poor Val was
out of favour at the Rectory. He detected the feeling, and it tended to
vex him more and more.

"Nonsense, Anne! The veto has not yet been interposed, and they can't
kill you for allowing my escort. Stay here if you like: if you go, I
shall see you home."

It was quite imperative that she should go, for dinner at Hartledon was
that evening fixed for seven o'clock, and there would be little enough
time to dress and return again. They set out, walking side by side. Anne
told him of what Lord Hartledon had said to her that day; and Val
coloured with shame at the sullenness he had displayed, and his heart
went into a glow of repentance. Had he met his brother then, he had
clasped his hand, and poured forth his contrition.

He met some one else instead, almost immediately. It was Dr. Ashton,
coming for Anne. Percival was not wanted now: was not invited to continue
his escort. A cold, civil word or two passed, and Val struck across the
grove into the high-road, and returned to Hartledon.

He was about to turn in at the lodge-gates with his usual greeting to
Mrs. Capper when his attention was caught by a figure coming down the
avenue. A man in a long coat, his face ornamented with red whiskers. It
required no second glance for recognition. Whiskers and coat proclaimed
their owner at once; and if ever Val Elster's heart leaped into his
mouth, it certainly leaped then.

He went on, instead of turning in; quietly, as if he were only a stranger
enjoying an evening stroll up the road; but the moment he was past the
gates he set off at breakneck speed, not heeding where. That the man was
there to arrest him, he felt as sure as he had ever felt of anything in
this world; and in his perplexity he began accusing every one of
treachery, Lord Hartledon and Pike in particular.

The river at the back in this part took a sweeping curve, the road kept
straight; so that to arrive at a given point, the one would be more
quickly traversed than the other. On and on went Val Elster; and as soon
as an opening allowed, he struck into the brushwood on the right,
intending to make his way back by the river to Hartledon.

But not yet. Not until the shades of night should fall on the earth:
he would have a better chance of getting away from that shark in the
darkness than by daylight. He propped his back against a tree and waited,
hating himself all the t