urned to the side of the hut, cleansed something on the grass, and
again put himself on the watch, though not as before, inside the hut, but
without, on the shady side. 'Now for the second!' he said.

It was plain, even to the unsophisticated boy, that he now awaited the
other person of the appointment--his wife, the Duchess--for what purpose
it was terrible to think. He seemed to be a man of such determined
temper that he would scarcely hesitate in carrying out a course of
revenge to the bitter end. Moreover--though it was what the shepherd did
not perceive--this was all the more probable, in that the moody Duke was
labouring under the exaggerated impression which the sight of the meeting
in dumb show had conveyed.

The jealous watcher waited long, but he waited in vain. From within the
hut the boy could hear his occasional exclamations of surprise, as if he
were almost disappointed at the failure of his assumption that his guilty
Duchess would surely keep the tryst. Sometimes he stepped from the shade
of the furze into the moonlight, and held up his watch to learn the time.

About half-past eleven he seemed to give up expecting her. He then went
a second time to the hollow behind the trilithon, remaining there nearly
a quarter of an hour. From this place he proceeded quickly over a
shoulder of the declivity, a little to the left, presently returning on
horseback, which proved that his horse had been tethered in some secret
place down there. Crossing anew the down between the hut and the
trilithon, and scanning the precincts as if finally to assure himself
that she had not come, he rode slowly downwards in the direction of
Shakeforest Towers.

The juvenile shepherd thought of what lay in the hollow yonder; and no
fear of the crook-stem of his superior officer was potent enough to
detain him longer on that hill alone. Any live company, even the most
terrible, was better than the company of the dead; so, running with the
speed of a hare in the direction pursued by the horseman, he overtook the
revengeful Duke at the second descent (where the great western road
crossed before you came to the old park entrance on that side--now closed
up and the lodge cleared away, though at the time it was wondered why,
being considered the most convenient gate of all).

Once within the sound of the horse's footsteps, Bill Mills felt
comparatively comfortable; for, though in awe of the Duke because of his
position, he had no