e. As he rose upright,
his head dropped. He did not look at me; he did not speak a single
word. He walked slowly to the door with steps that faltered a little,
and walked out of the room, and out of the house.

I watched him down the avenue, wondering at his strange silence. It
had a curious effect upon me. I would rather have heard threats--even
a torrent of anger. There was something curiously ominous in that
slow, wordless exit. I watched him uneasily, full of dim, shapeless
fears.

Outside the gate he paused in the middle of the road. To the left
was the monastery where he had stayed; to the right was Vaux Abbey. I
heard my heart beat while he paused, and my face was pressed against
the window. For nearly a minute he stood quite still, with downcast
head, thinking. Then he turned deliberately to the right, and set his
face towards Vaux Abbey.

* * * * *

That was early in the evening yesterday--twenty-four hours ago. Since
then not a soul has been near the house. Early this morning I saw
Father Adrian coming along the road from Vaux. I ran upstairs, and
locked myself in my room, after forbidding the servants to let him
enter. From the windows I watched him. To my surprise he never
even glanced in. He walked past the gates, and took the road to the
monastery. I saw him slowly ascend the hill and vanish out of sight
in the darkening twilight. Once, just before he reached the summit, he
paused and looked steadily down here. I could not see his face, but
I saw him raise his right hand for a moment toward the sky. Then he
turned round and pursued his way.

* * * * *

If some one does not come to me soon, I shall go mad. Another hour has
passed. My mind is made up; I shall go to Vaux Abbey.

CHAPTER XXIII

"MY LIPS ARE CHARGED WITH TRUTH, AND JUSTICE BIDS ME SPEAK"

An early darkness had fallen upon the earth. Black clouds had sailed
across the young moon, and the evening breeze had changed into a gale.
There was no rain as yet, but every prospect of it near at hand. A
mass of lurid, yellowish clouds hung low down over the bending woods,
and the wind whistled drearily amongst the fir trees. Paul de
Vaux wrapped his cloak tightly around him, and, standing on the
turf-covered floor of the ruined chapel, peered forward into the
darkness, looking for the man whom he had come to meet. Even then he
heard his voice before he could distinguish the d