ut in reality she had not been there more than a quarter of an
hour before she observed the figure of a man emerge from some trees, a
few hundred yards distant, and come towards her, and despite the fact
that he was wearing a raincoat, with the collar turned up to his ears,
and a tweed cap pulled well down over his head, she had no difficulty
in recognizing in the approaching figure her fellow-traveller of the
journey to Monkshaven.

Evidently he had not seen her, for she could hear him whistling softly
to himself as he approached, while with the fingers of one hand he
drummed on his chest as though beating out the rhythm of the melody he
was whistling--a wild, passionate refrain from Wieniawski's exquisite
_Legende_. It sounded curiously in harmony with the tempest that raged
about him.

For himself, he appeared to regard the storm with indifference--almost
to welcome it, for more than once Sara saw him raise his head as though
he were glad to feel the wind and rain beating against his face.

She drew back a little into the shadows of the summer-house, hoping he
might turn aside without observing her, since, from all accounts,
Garth Trent was hardly the type of man to welcome a trespasser upon his
property.

But he came straight on towards her, and an instant later she knew that
her presence was discovered, for he stopped abruptly and peered through
the driving rain in the direction of the summer-house. Then, quickening
his steps, he rapidly covered the intervening space and halted on the
threshold of the shelter.

"What the devil----" he began, then paused and stared down at her with
an odd glint of amusement in his eyes. "So it's you, is it?" he said at
last, with a short laugh.

Once again Sara was conscious of the extraordinary intensity of his
regard, and now, as a sudden ragged gleam of sunlight pierced the
clouds, falling athwart his face, she realized what it was that induced
it. In both eyes the clear hazel of the iris was broken by a tiny,
irregularly shaped patch of vivid blue, close to the pupil, and its
effect was to give that curious depth and intentness of expression which
Molly had tried to describe when she had said that Garth Trent's were
the kind of eyes which "make you jump if he looked at you suddenly."

Sara almost jumped now; then, supported by her indignant recollection of
the man's churlishness on a former occasion, she bowed silently.

He continued to regard her with that lurking sugg