hole and put in the coins, then covered them up again,
spreading the leaves as naturally as possible, and mentally making marks
on certain trees so as to remember the spot.

At the same time he was haunted by the feeling that his every act was
being watched, and that the coins would be found.

"Never mind," he muttered, "they must find them," and he lay back once
more to think about getting home, and whether he could manage the task
after a rest, but he grew more and more certain that he could not, for
minute by minute he grew cooler, and in consequence his joints and
muscles stiffened, so that at last he felt as if he dared not stir.

He lay quite still for a while, half-stunned mentally by his position,
and glad to feel that he was not called upon to act in any way for the
time being, all of which feeling was of course the result of the
tremendous exertion through which he had passed, and the physical
weakness and shock caused by the blows.

It was a soft, deliciously warm evening, and it was restful to lie
there, gazing through the trees at the glowing west, which was by slow
degrees paling. The time had gone rapidly by during the last two hours
or so, and it suddenly occurred to him in a dull, hazy way that the
evening meal, a kind of high tea, would be about ready now at the little
manor; that Aunt Hannah would be getting up from her work to look out of
the window and see if he was coming; and that after his afternoon in the
garden, the doctor would have been up to his bedroom and just come down
ready to take his seat at the snug, comfortable board.

"And they are waiting for me," thought Vane.

The idea seemed more to amuse than trouble him in his half-stupefied
state, for everything was unreal and dreamy. He could not fully realise
that he was lying there battered and bruised, but found himself thinking
as of some one else in whose troubles he took an interest.

It was a curious condition of mind to be in, and, if asked, he could not
have explained why he felt no anxiety nor wonder whether, after waiting
tea for a long time, the doctor would send to meet him, and later on
despatch a messenger to the village, where no news would be forthcoming.
Perhaps his uncle and aunt would be anxious and would send people in
search of him, and if these people were sent they would come along the
deep lane and over the moorland piece, thinking that perhaps he would
have gone that way for a short cut.

Perhaps. It all