abina took Abel to West Haven for a long day on the
beach and pier. He enjoyed himself very thoroughly, ate, drank and
played to his heart's content. But his amusements brought more pleasure
to the child than his mother, for he found the wonderful old stores and
discovered therein far more entertaining occupation than either sea or
shore could offer.

The place was deserted to-day, and while Sabina sat outside in a corner
of the courtyard and occupied herself with the future, Abel explored the
mysteries of the ancient building and found all manner of strange nooks
and mysterious passages. He wove dreams and magnified the least incident
into an adventure. He inhabited the dark corners and sombre,
subterranean places with enemies that wanted to catch him; he most
potently believed that hidden treasures awaited him under the
hollow-echoing floors. Once he had a rare fright, for a bat hanging
asleep in its folded wings, was wakened by him and suddenly flew into
his face. He climbed and crawled and crept about, stole a lump of putty
and rejoiced at the discovery of some paint pots and a brush. The 'Red
Hand' no longer existed; but the opportunity once more to set up its
sinister symbol was too good to resist. He painted it on the walls in
several places and then called his mother to look at the achievement.

She climbed up a long flight of stone steps that led to the lofts, and
suffered a strange experience presently, for the child was playing in
the chamber sacred to her surrender. She stood where twelve years before
she had come with Raymond Ironsyde after their day at Golden Cap.

Light fell through a window let into the roof. It was broken and
fringed with cobwebs. The pile of fishermen's nets had vanished and a
carpenter's bench had taken its place. On the walls and timbers were
scrawled names and initials of holiday folk, who had explored the old
stores through many years.

Sabina, perceiving where she stood, closed her eyes and took an
involuntary step backward. Abel called attention to his sign upon the
walls.

"The carpenter will shiver when he sees that," he said.

Then he rambled off, whistling, and she sat down and stared round her.
She told herself that deep thoughts must surely wake under this sudden
experience and the fountains of long sealed emotion bubble upwards, to
drown her before them. Instead she merely found herself incapable of
thinking. A dull, stale, almost stagnant mood crept over her. Her mi