with Valmai was so intimately connected with it; and as he
crossed the bridge, he called to mind how they had shared their
gingerbread under the light of the moon.

"Perhaps you never noticed there was a stile there?" said the Vicar.

"Yes," said Cardo, turning round to take a last look at it and the
bridge, and--was it fancy, or did he see something waving in the wind?

For a moment he laid his hand on the reins with the idea of running
back to see, but "Jim" was fresh, and, resenting the check, swerved
uncomfortably aside.

"Let him go," said the Vicar. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, sir. For a moment I thought I would go back and take a last
look at the valley; but never mind, let us go on. How black it looks
in front!"

"A storm rising, I think," said his father.

"Yes. There will be a gale from the north-west; we shall catch it on
the _Burrawalla_, I expect. Well, I have often wished to see a storm
at sea."

His father did not answer, but looked gloomily on at the gathering
darkness in front. He was full of fears for his son's safety, but it
was not his nature to speak openly of any tender feelings. His late
confession, although it had comforted and soothed him, was yet a
mystery to himself, and he thought of it with a kind of awkward
surprise and something like resentment. He was, however, unusually
talkative and even gentle as they drove on together. When at last he
had seen Cardo fairly off in the coach, with his luggage piled on the
top, he turned homewards with a heavy foreboding at his heart.

Should he ever see his son again? Had he sent him from his native land
to be lost to him for ever? And how willingly he had given in to his
father's wishes! But, certainly there was nothing to attract him to
his home--nothing but his love for a surly old father!

"A fine fellow!" he soliloquised, with a side jerk of his head. "A
fine fellow! a son to be proud of!"

And when Gwynne Ellis joined him at tea, they vied with each other in
their praises of Cardo's character.

If Cardo had followed his impulse and returned to look over the stile,
he would have found on the mossy hedge inside a little white heap of
misery. For Valmai, who had watched for an hour to catch a last
glimpse of him, had been frightened when she saw the "Vicare du"
looking towards the stile, and evidently drawing Cardo's attention to
it; she had shrunk back until they had passed, and then standing on the
hedge, had waved