ligent because he was so rude.

Beyond a vague rumour that Julian had established a general pottery
agency in Cape Town with favourable prospects, no further news of
him had reached England. But of course it was admitted that his
inheritance had definitely saved the business, and also much improved
his situation in the eyes of the community ... And now he had achieved
a reappearance which in mysteriousness excelled even his absence.

"So you see we're installed here," said Louis, when he had finished
with the fire.

"Aye!" muttered Julian dryly, and shut his lips.

Louis tried no more conversational openings. He was afraid. He waited
for Julian's initiative as for an earthquake; for he knew now at the
roots of his soul that the phrasing of the note was misleading, and
that Julian had come to charge him with having misappropriated the sum
of nine hundred and sixty-five pounds. He had, in reality, surmised as
much on first reading the note, but somehow he had managed to put away
the surmise as absurd and incredible.

After a formidable silence Julian said savagely--

"Look here. I've got something to tell you. I've written it all down,
and I thought to send it ye by post. But after I'd written it I said
to myself I'd tell it ye face to face or I'd die for it. And so here I
am."

"Oh!" Louis murmured. He would have liked to be genially facetious,
but his mouth was dried up. He could not ask any questions. He waited.

"Where's missis?" Julian demanded.

Louis started, not instantly comprehending.

"Rachel? She's--she's in bed. She'd gone to bed before you sent
round."

"Well, I'll thank ye to get her up, then!" Julian pronounced. "She's
got to hear this at first hand, not at second." His gaze expressed a
frank distrust of Louis.

"But--"

At this moment Rachel came into the parlour, apparently fully dressed.
Her eyes were red, but her self-control was complete.

Julian glared at Louis as at a trapped liar.

"I thought ye said she was in bed."

"She was," said Louis. He could find nothing to say to his wife.

Rachel nonchalantly held out her hand.

"So you've come," she said.

"Aye!" said Julian gruffly, and served Rachel's hand as he had served
Louis'.

She winced without concealment.

"Was it you we saw going down Moorthorne Road to-night?" she asked.

"It was," said Julian, looking at the carpet.

"Well, why didn't you come in then?"

"I couldn't make up my mind, if you must know."

"Aren