nt
on this side. See there!" he cried, and flung out a hand.

I looked up. Sure enough, at that instant, a grey-coated figure appeared
on the summit of the hill, not five hundred yards away to the left. He
was followed closely by my friend of the moleskin waistcoat; and the
pair came sidling down the slope towards us.

"Gentlemen," said I, "it appears that I owe you my thanks. Your
stratagem in any case was kindly meant."

"There was Miss Gilchrist to consider," said the Major stiffly. But
Ronald cried, "Quick, St. Ives! Make a dash back by the quarry path. I
warrant we don't hinder."

"Thank you, my friend: I have another notion. Flora," I said, and took
her hand, "here is our parting. The next five minutes will decide much.
Be brave, dearest; and your thoughts go with me till I come again."

"Wherever you go, I'll think of you. Whatever happens, I'll love you.
Go, and God defend you, Anne!" Her breast heaved, as she faced the
Major, red and shame-fast, indeed, but gloriously defiant.

"Quick!" cried she and her brother together. I kissed her hand and
sprang down the hill.

I heard a shout behind me; and, glancing back, saw my pursuers, three
now, with my full-bodied cousin for whipper-in--change their course as I
leapt a brook and headed for the crowded enclosure. A somnolent fat man,
bulging, like a feather-bed, on a three-legged stool, dozed at the
receipt of custom, with a deal table and a bowl of sixpences before him.
I dashed on him with a crown-piece.

"No change given," he objected, waking up and fumbling with a bundle of
pink tickets.

"None required." I snatched the ticket and ran through the gateway.

I gave myself time for another look before mingling with the crowd. The
moleskin waistcoat was leading now, and had reached the brook; with
red-head a yard or two behind, and my cousin, a very bad third,
panting--it pleased me to imagine how sorely--across the lower slopes to
the eastward. The janitor leaned against his toll-bar and still followed
me with a stare. Doubtless by my uncovered head and gala dress he judged
me an all-night reveller--a strayed Bacchanal fooling in the morrow's
eye.

Prompt upon the inference came inspiration. I must win to the centre of
the crowd, and a crowd is invariably indulgent to a drunkard. I hung out
the glaring sign-board of crapulous glee. Lurching, hiccoughing,
jostling, apologising to all and sundry with spacious incoherence, I
plunged my way through the sig