d at all. He'd have done much
better here."

"I suppose there isn't the faintest shadow of a chance that he may still
be alive, Mr Milne?"

The remark was an unfortunate one. Cool-headed as he was, it awoke in
Eustace a vague stirring of uneasiness--chiming in, as it did, with the
misgivings which would sometimes pass through his own mind.

"Not a shadow of a chance, I should say," he replied, after a slight
pause.

Bentley, too, began to realise that the remark was not a happy one--for
of course he could not all this time have been blind to the state of
affairs. He felt confused and relapsed into silence--puffing vigorously
at his pipe.

The silence was broken--broken in a startling manner. A terrified
scream fell upon their ears--not very loud, but breathing unmistakable
tones of mortal fear. Both men sprang to their feet.

"Heavens!" cried the overseer. "That's Mrs Carhayes--"

But the other said not a word. In about a half a dozen steps he was
through the sitting room and had gained the door which opened out of it.
This was Eanswyth's bedroom, whence the terrified cry had proceeded.

"What is wrong, Eanswyth?" he cried, tapping at the door.

It opened immediately. She stood there wrapped in a long loose dressing
gown, the wealth of her splendid hair falling in masses. But her face
was white as death, and the large eyes were dilated with such a pitiable
expression of fear and distress, as he certainly had never beheld there.

"What is it, my darling? What has frightened you so?" he said tenderly,
moved to the core by this extraordinary manifestation of pitiable
terror.

She gave a quick flurried look over her shoulder. Then clutching his
hands--and he noticed that hers were trembling and as cold as ice--she
gasped:

"Eustace--I have seen--him!"

"Who--in Heaven's name?"

"Tom."

"Darling, you must have dreamt it. You have been allowing your thoughts
to run too much on the subject and--"

"No. It was no dream. I have not even been to bed yet," she
interrupted, speaking hurriedly. "I was sitting there, at the table,
reading one of my little books. I just happened to look up and--O
Eustace"--with a violent shudder--"I saw _his_ face staring in at the
window just as plainly as I can see you now."

Eustace followed her cowering glance. The window, black and
uncurtained, looked out upon the _veldt_. There were shutters, but they
were hardly ever closed. His first thought, having di