one the more for that.

"I suppose you haven't got a trap waiting for you?" said Trelyon with
cold politeness. "I can drive you over if you like."

He could do no less than make the offer: the other had no alternative
but to accept. Old Mrs. Trelyon heard this compact made with
considerable dread.

Indeed, it was a dismal drive over to Eglosilyan, bright as the forenoon
was. The old lady did her best to be courteous to Mr. Roscorla and
cheerful with her grandson, but she was oppressed by the belief that it
was only her presence that had so far restrained the two men from giving
vent to the rage and jealousy that filled their hearts.

The conversation kept up was singular.

"Are you going to remain in England long, Roscorla?" said the younger of
the two men, making an unnecessary cut at one of the two horses he was
driving.

"Don't know yet. Perhaps I may."

"Because," said Trelyon with angry impertinence, "I suppose if you do,
you'll have to look round for a housekeeper."

The insinuation was felt; and Roscorla's eyes looked anything but
pleasant as he answered, "You forget I've got Mrs. Cornish to look after
my house."

"Oh, Mrs. Cornish is not much of a companion for you."

"Men seldom want to make companions of their housekeepers," was the
retort, uttered rather hotly.

"But sometimes they wish to have the two offices combined, for economy's
sake."

At this juncture Mrs. Trelyon struck in, somewhat wildly, with a remark
about an old ruined house which seemed to have had at one time a private
still inside: the danger was staved off for the moment. "Harry," she
said, "mind what you are about: the horses seem very fresh."

"Yes, they like a good run: I suspect they've had precious little to do
since I left Cornwall."

Did she fear that the young man was determined to throw them into a
ditch or down a precipice, with the wild desire of killing his rival at
any cost? If she had known the whole state of affairs between them--the
story of the emerald ring, for example--she would have understood at
least the difficulty experienced by these two men in remaining decently
civil toward each other.

So they passed over the high and wide moors until far ahead they caught
a glimpse of the blue plain of the sea. Mr. Roscorla relapsed into
silence: he was becoming a trifle nervous. He was probably so occupied
with anticipations of his meeting with Wenna that he failed to notice
the objects around him; and one of t