ally deciding the course he should
take, it is not too much to say that the motive of money receded, for
the first time in his life, into the second place, and the motive of
malice carried the day.

"I accept the terms," said Captain Wragge, getting briskly on his legs
again. "Subject, of course, to the conditions agreed on between us. We
part on the wedding-day. I don't ask where you go: you don't ask where I
go. From that time forth we are strangers to each other."

Magdalen rose slowly from the mound. A hopeless depression, a sullen
despair, showed itself in her look and manner. She refused the captain's
offered hand; and her tones, when she answered him, were so low that he
could hardly hear her.

"We understand each other," she said; "and we can now go back. You may
introduce me to Mrs. Lecount to-morrow."

"I must ask a few questions first," said the captain, gravely. "There
are more risks to be run in this matter, and more pitfalls in our way,
than you seem to suppose. I must know the whole history of your morning
call on Mrs. Lecount before I put you and that woman on speaking terms
with each other."

"Wait till to-morrow," she broke out impatiently. "Don't madden me by
talking about it to-night."

The captain said no more. They turned their faces toward Aldborough, and
walked slowly back.

By the time they reached the houses night had overtaken them. Neither
moon nor stars were visible. A faint noiseless breeze blowing from the
land had come with the darkness. Magdalen paused on the lonely public
walk to breathe the air more freely. After a while she turned her face
from the breeze and looked out toward the sea. The immeasurable silence
of the calm waters, lost in the black void of night, was awful. She
stood looking into the darkness, as if its mystery had no secrets for
her--she advanced toward it slowly, as if it drew her by some hidden
attraction into itself.

"I am going down to the sea," she said to her companion. "Wait here, and
I will come back."

He lost sight of her in an instant; it was as if the night had swallowed
her up. He listened, and counted her footsteps by the crashing of them
on the shingle in the deep stillness. They retreated slowly, further and
further away into the night. Suddenly the sound of them ceased. Had she
paused on her course or had she reached one of the strips of sand left
bare by the ebbing tide?

He waited, and listened anxiously. The time passed, and no soun