ore he dove, straight down out of sight.

Five minutes later he pulled himself up over the edge, his flesh
tingling with the chill of the water, and drew the robe about his cool
white shoulders. Then he thrust his feet into his sandals and sped
quickly back. He rubbed himself to a glow, and blowing out the remaining
candle, stretched himself luxuriously between the warm blankets on the
couch. The dog sniffed inquiringly at his hand, then leaped up and
snuggled down close to his feet.

The soft flooding moonlight sent its radiance into the gloomy room,
touching lovingly its dark carven furniture and bringing into sharp
relief the lithe contour of the figure under the fleecy coverlid, the
crisp damp hair, the expressive face, and the wide-open dreamy eyes.

John Valiant's thoughts had fled a thousand miles away, to the tall girl
who all his life had seemed to stand out from his world, aloof and
unsurpassed--Katharine Fargo. He tried to picture her, a perfect
chatelaine, graceful and gracious as a tall, white, splendid lily, in
this dead house that seemed still to throb with living passions. But the
picture subtly eluded him and he stirred uneasily under the blanket.

After a time his hand stretched out to the reading-stand and drew the
glass with its vivid blossom nearer, till, in his nostrils, its musky
odor mingled with the dew-wet scent of the honeysuckle from the garden.
At last his eyes closed. "Every man carries his fate ... on a riband
about his neck," he muttered drowsily, and then, "Roses ... red
roses...."

And so he fell asleep.

CHAPTER XIII

THE HUNT

He awoke to a musical twittering and chirping, to find the sun
pouring into the dusty room in a very glory. He rolled from the
blanket and stood upright, filling his lungs with a long deep breath
of satisfaction. He felt singularly light-hearted and alive. The
bulldog came bounding through the window, dirty from the weeds, and
flung himself upon his master in a canine rapture.

"Get out!" quoth the latter, laughing. "Stop licking my feet! How the
dickens do you suppose I'm to get into my clothes with your ridiculous
antics going on? Down, I say!"

He began to dress rapidly. "Listen to those birds, Chum!" he said.
"There's an ornithological political convention going on out there. Wish
I knew what they were chinning about--they're so mightily in earnest.
See them splashing in that fountain? If you had any self-respect you'd
be taking a bath y