that
his eye was caught by the face of a man who sat beside her. A gleam from
a gas-lamp had fallen full upon it, revealing the regular, passionless
features, the dark eyes and pale complexion of Ethel's lover. And as
soon as he saw that face, a great change came over the mental condition
of Francis Trent. He stood for a moment as if paralyzed, his worn
features strangely convulsed, a strange lurid light showed itself in his
haggard eyes. Then he threw his arms wildly in the air, uttered a
choked, gasping cry, and rushed madly and vainly after the retreating
carriage, heedless of the shouts which the little crowd sent after him.

"He's mad--he'll never catch up that carriage! What does he run after it
for, the fool?" said one of the men on the pavement.

And indeed he soon relinquished the attempt, and sat down on a doorstep,
panting and exhausted, with his face buried upon his arms.

But he was not mad. He was sure of that now. It was only that he
had--partially and feebly, but to some extent effectually--remembered
what had happened to him in the dark dead Past.

CHAPTER XXVII.

DOUBT.

It was a difficult matter for Maurice Kenyon so to word his report to
Caspar Brooke as not to excite his displeasure against Lesley. He felt
himself bound to respect Lesley's confidences--if such they might be
called--respecting the promise which kept her from returning his love;
but he could not help a certain bitterness of tone in referring to his
interview with her; and his friend observed the bitterness.

"What reason did she give for refusing you?" he asked sharply.

"I suppose she does not care for me."

"There is something else--to judge from your look. Perhaps there
is--somebody else?" said Brooke.

"Well, I don't know that I'm doing right in telling you--but--God help
me!--I believe there is," said Maurice, with a groan.

"She did not tell you who?"

"No."

Mr. Brooke knitted his brows. He was inclined to think that Oliver Trent
had produced an impression on Lesley's susceptible heart. He could not
ask questions of any of the persons concerned; but he had his
suspicions, and they made him angry as well as anxious.

He made it his business during the next day or two to find out whether
Oliver had been to the house since the day when he had interrupted the
interview; but he could not learn that he had ventured there again. It
was no use asking Dr. Sophy about Lesley's comings and goings: it was
almost i