in these parts,
they say. It's not much that he gives away, but he's a kind heart. You
see that great post at the entrance to the river there?" she went
on, pointing to it. "He had that set up and a lamp hung from there.
Fentolin's light, they call it. It was to save men's lives. It was
burning, they say, the night I lost my lads. Fentolin's light!"

"They were wrecked?" he asked her gently.

"Wrecked," she answered. "Bad steering it must have been. James would
steer, and they say that he drank a bit. Bad steering! Yes, you'll meet
Squire Fentolin before long. He's queer to look at--a small body but a
great, kind heart. A miserable life, his, but it will be made up to him.
It will be made up to him!"

She turned away. Her lips were moving all the time. She walked about a
dozen steps, and then she returned.

"You're Hamel's son, the painter," she said. "You'll be welcome down
here. He'll have you to stay at the Hall--a brave place. Don't let him
be too kind to you. Sometimes kindness hurts."

She passed on, walking with a curious, shambling gait, and soon she
disappeared on her way to the village. Hamel watched her for a moment
and then turned his head towards St. David's Hall. He felt somehow that
her abrupt departure was due to something which she had seen in that
direction. He rose to his feet. His instinct had been a true one.

CHAPTER XII

From where Hamel stood a queer object came strangely into sight. Below
the terrace of St. David's Hall--from a spot, in fact, at the base of
the solid wall--it seemed as though a gate had been opened, and there
came towards him what he at first took to be a tricycle. As it came
nearer, it presented even a weirder appearance. Mr. Fentolin, in a black
cape and black skull cap, sat a little forward in his electric carriage,
with his hand upon the guiding lever. His head came scarcely above
the back of the little vehicle, his hands and body were motionless.
He seemed to be progressing without the slightest effort, personal or
mechanical, as though he rode, in deed, in some ghostly vehicle. From
the same place in the wall had issued, a moment or two later, a man upon
a bicycle, who was also coming towards him. Hamel was scarcely conscious
of this secondary figure. His eyes were fixed upon the strange personage
now rapidly approaching him. There was something which seemed scarcely
human in that shrunken fragment of body, the pale face with its waving
white hair, the strange