her and turned round. Never had she been much more amazed in
her life. Her maid, her well-bred Jane Cupp, who had not drawn an
indecorous breath since assuming her duties, was running after her
calling out to her, waving her hands, her face distorted, her voice
hysteric.

Emily had been just on the point of stepping on to the bridge, her hand
had been outstretched towards the rail. She drew back a step in alarm
and stood staring. How strange everything seemed to-day. She began to
feel choked and trembling.

A few seconds and Jane was upon her, clutching at her dress. She had so
lost her breath that she was almost speechless.

"My lady," she panted. "Don't set foot on it; don't--don't, till we're
sure."

"On--on what?"

Then Jane realised how mad she looked, how insane the whole scene was,
and she gave way to her emotions. Partly through physical exhaustion and
breathlessness, and partly through helpless terror, she fell on her
knees.

"The bridge!" she said. "I don't care what happens to me so that no harm
comes to you. There's things being plotted and planned that looks like
accidents. The bridge would look like an accident if part of it broke.
There's no bottom to the water. They were saying so yesterday, and _she_
sat listening. I found her here last night."

"She! Her!" Emily felt as if she was passing through another nightmare.

"Ameerah," wailed poor Jane. "White ones have no chance against black.
Oh, my lady!" her sense of the possibility that she might be making a
fool of herself after all was nearly killing her. "I believe she would
drive you to your death if she could do it, think what you will of me."

The little basket of needlework shook in Lady Walderhurst's hand. She
swallowed hard, and without warning sat down on the roots of a fallen
tree, her cheeks blanching slowly.

"Oh Jane!" she said in simple woe and bewilderment. "I don't understand
any of it. How could--how _could_ they want to hurt me!" Her innocence
was so fatuous that she thought that because she had been kind to them
they could not hate or wish to injure her.

But something for the first time made her begin to quail. She sat, and
tried to recover herself. She put out a shaking hand to the basket of
sewing. She could scarcely see it, because suddenly tears had filled her
eyes.

"Bring one of the men here," she said, after a few moments. "Tell him
that I am a little uncertain about the safety of the bridge."

She sat quite st