re," he said.

Payne made a little deprecatory gesture. "We know he came here. It is
my duty to warn you that proceedings will be taken against any one
concealing or harboring him."

Barrington rose up very stiffly, with a little gray tinge in his face,
but words seemed to fail him, and Dane laid his hand on the corporal's
shoulder.

"Then," he said grimly, "don't exceed it. If you believe he's here, we
will give you every opportunity of finding him."

Payne called to a comrade outside, who was, as it happened, new to the
force, and they spent at least ten minutes questioning the servants and
going up and down the house. Then as they glanced into the general
room again, the trooper looked deprecatingly at his officer.

"I fancied I heard somebody riding by the bluff just before we reached
the house," he said.

Payne wheeled round with a flash in his eyes. "Then you have lost us
our man. Out with you, and tell Jackson to try the bluff for a trail."

They had gone in another moment, and Winston still sat at the foot of
the table and Barrington at the head, while the rest of the company
were scattered, some wonderingly silent, though others talked in
whispers, about the room. As yet they felt only consternation and
astonishment.

CHAPTER XXV

COURTHORNE MAKES REPARATION

The silence in the big room had grown oppressive, when Barrington
raised his head and sat stiffly upright.

"What has happened has been a blow to me, and I am afraid I am scarcely
equal to entertaining you tonight," he said. "I should, however, like
Dane and Macdonald, and one or two of the older men to stay a while.
There is still, I fancy, a good deal for us to do."

The others turned towards the door, but as they passed Winston, Miss
Barrington turned and touched his shoulder. The man, looking up
suddenly, saw her and her niece standing close beside her.

"Madam," he said hoarsely, though it was Maud Barrington he glanced at,
"the comedy is over. Well, I promised you an explanation, and now you
have it you will try not to think too bitterly of me. I cannot ask you
to forgive me."

The little white-haired lady pointed to the ears of wheat which stood
gleaming ruddy bronze in front of him.

"That," she said, very quietly, "will make it easier."

Maud Barrington said nothing, but every one in the room saw her
standing a moment beside the man, with a little flush on her face and
no blame in her eyes. Then she passed on