it, if he chose. Gad!--what would she say if she knew where
he was at that moment, and what he was doing!

For eighteen months she had hidden herself so cleverly that he had
entirely lost sight of her. When her lawyers communicated with him in the
spring they had been careful to give no address. On the whole he had
believed her to be still in Canada. She, on the other hand, unless she
were a greater fool than he thought her, _must_ have guessed that he
would get back to England somehow. Why, the farm had ended in bankruptcy,
and what else was there to do but to come home and dun his relations!
Yet she had not been afraid to come home herself, and set up in this
conspicuous way. She supposed, of course, that she had done with him for
good--kicked him off like an old shoe! The rage in his blood set his
heart beating to suffocation. Then his cough seized him again. He stifled
it as best he could, flattened against the wall, in the shadow of a
yew-tree.

The sound, however, was apparently heard, for there were rapid steps
across the farm-yard, and a gate opened. "Hallo--who's there?" The voice
was, no doubt, that of the labourer he had seen. Delane slipped
noiselessly along the wall, and to the back of the stables, till all was
quiet again within the farm.

But outside in the road there were persons approaching. He mounted the
hill a little way into the shelter of the trees which covered the steep
face of the down, and ran up into the great woods along the crest.
Through the gathering dusk he saw the large farm-cart clattering up the
lane with several figures in it. The cart carried lamps, which sent
shafts of light over the stubbles. There was a sound of talk and
laughter, and alongside the cart he saw a man leading a motor-bicycle,
and apparently talking to the women in the cart. A man in uniform.
The American, no doubt!

The cart drew up at the farm-yard gates, and the old labourer came to
open them. Everybody dismounted, except one of the girls, who, standing
in the wagon, drove the horses. Then, for a time, Delane could see
nothing more. The farm quadrangle had absorbed the party. Occasionally a
light flashed, or a voice could be heard calling, or laughter came
floating up the hill through an open door or window. But in a little
while all was silence.

Delane sat down on a fallen trunk, and watched. All kinds of images were
rushing through his brain--wide wheat fields with a blazing sun on the
stooks--a small fr