stiff flogging," remarked Guyes. "Ye gods! I wonder how
he stood it."

"Oh, Piers can stand anything," said Ina unconcernedly. "He's as strong
as an ox."

The voices dwindled and died in the distance. The dusk deepened. A sense
of utter forlornness, utter weariness, came upon Avery. The struggle was
over, and she had emerged triumphant; but it did not seem to matter. She
could think only of those awful blows raining down upon the defenceless
shoulders of the boy who had championed her. And, leaning there in the
drizzling wet, she covered her face with her hands and wept.

CHAPTER XI

THE STAR OF HOPE

There came the swift drumming of galloping hoofs, the check and pause of
a leap, and then close at hand the thud of those same hoofs landing on
the near side of the hedge. The rider slithered to the ground, patted the
animal's neck, and turned forthwith towards the hut. Avery heard nought
of his coming. She was crying like a weak, unnerved woman, draggled and
mud-spattered, unspeakably distressed. It was so seldom that she gave way
that perhaps the failure of her self-control was the more absolute when
it came. She had been tried beyond her strength. Body and mind were alike
exhausted.

But when strong arms suddenly encircled her and she found herself drawn
close to a man's breast, quick and instinctive came the impulse to
resist. She drew back from him with a sharp exclamation.

"It's only me," said Piers. "Surely you don't mind me!"

It was naively expressed, so naively that she assayed to laugh in the
midst of her woe. "Oh, how you startled me!" was all she found to say.

"But surely you knew I was coming back!" he said.

The dogged note was in his voice. It embarrassed her subtly. Seeing his
face through the deepening gloom, it seemed to her to be set in stern,
unyielding lines.

She collected her scattered forces, and gently put his arms away from
her. "It was very kind of you, Mr. Evesham," she said. "But please
remember that I'm not Jeanie!"

He made an impulsive movement of impatience. "I never pretended you
were," he said gruffly. "But you were crying, weren't you? Why were
you crying?"

His tone was almost aggressive. He seemed to be angry, but whether with
her, himself, or a third person, Avery could not determine.

She decided that the situation demanded firmness, and proceeded to treat
it accordingly.

"I was very foolish to cry," she said. "I have quite recovered now, so
please forg