-spirited. Hugh thought that if Mr. George Loftus had been alive he
might have consulted him. In an amicable silence, broken occasionally by
whistling for Crack, who hurried blear-eyed and asthmatic out of
rabbit-holes, the pair reached Beaumere; and, after following the path
through the wood, came suddenly upon the little lake locked in the heart
of the steeply climbing forest.

Doll stood still and pointed with his stick for fear Hugh might overlook
it. "I come here every Sunday," he remarked.

A sense of unreality and foreboding seized on Hugh, as the still face of
the water looked up at him. Where had he seen it before, this sea of
glass reflecting the yellow woods that stooped to its very edge? What
had it to do with him?

"I've been here before," he said, involuntarily.

"I dare say," said Doll. "Newhaven marches with me here. The boundary is
by that clump of silver birch. The Drone comes in there, but you can't
see it. The Newhavens are friends of yours, aren't they?"

"Acquaintances," said Hugh, absently, looking hard at the water. He had
never been here before. Memory groped blindly for a lost link, as one
who momentarily recognizes a face in a crowd, and tries to put a name to
it and fails. As the face disappears, so the sudden impression passed
from Hugh's mind.

"I expect you have been here with them," said Doll. "Good man,
Newhaven."

"I used to see a good deal of them at one time," said Hugh; "but they
seem to have forgotten me of late."

"Oh, that's her!" said Doll. "She is always off and on with people.
Takes a fancy one day and a dislike the next. But he's not like that.
You always know where to find him. Solid man, Newhaven. He doesn't say
much, but what he says he sticks to."

"He gives one that impression," said Hugh.

"I rather think he is there now," said Doll, pointing to the farther
shore. "I see a figure moving, and two little specks. I should not
wonder if it were him and the boys. They often come here on Sunday
afternoons."

"You have long sight," said Hugh. He had met Lord Newhaven several times
since the drawing of lots, and they had always greeted each other with
cold civility. But Hugh avoided him when he could without drawing
attention to the fact that he did so.

"Are you going over to his side?" he asked.

"Rather not," said Doll. "I have never set a single trimmer or fired a
shot beyond that clump of birch, or Uncle George before me."

The two men picked their way dow