or Calcutta.

Nothing had been hinted about escapes of Oswald Langdon and Alice
Webster from Paul's murderous assaults. Pierre still believes these had
fallen victims to Paul's passionate, hasty revenge. Until the
restitution becomes absolute by full recovery of all, Pierre will not
be told about their strange escapes or after experiences.

There now will be no occasion for bringing of civil actions against
Pierre Lanier. Even that conspiracy to defraud Alice out of London
property can not be clearly established. That Pierre had to do in any of
Paul's murderous assaults is not susceptible of competent proof, except
in those upon the Dodges in Calcutta. Of these favorable circumstances
Pierre knows little and cares less. But for Paul he would have found
grim satisfaction in paying the most extreme penalties.

That uncle, before starting on his trip, arranged for delay in
proceedings against Pierre Lanier, and suggested that the whole case
might be simplified by judicious waiting.

Pierre makes no demand for a hearing or arraignment. All remains in
status quo through irregular, concurring sufferance.

Sir Donald and family, accompanied by Alice Webster, leave for
Northfield.

A letter is daily expected from Oswald Langdon. Alice and Charles seem
forgetful of all former experiences. The attraction is mutual. They talk
and laugh as though no shadow ever crossed the path of either or hung
like a menacing cloud over that Northfield household. Alice heard of
Oswald's escape and romantic conduct. She so long had thought of him as
dead that these reports sound like ghostly recitals. Oswald Langdon's
living, corporeal presence would seem as one long dead, whose reembodied
spirit had been clothed anew with vesture of flesh. In dreams had she
not beheld that drowned form lying at bottom of the fateful river? In
far Bombay Alice conjured Oswald's fleshless skeleton into a fearful
ogre fright for Paul Lanier. Again, along the lake had she stampeded
this crazed madman by impressive promptings about those bleaching bones.
To Alice Webster Oswald Langdon is surely dead. But how instinct and
tremulous with pulsing life is that other handsome, manly presence whose
eyes seek hers! Does he not know her strange romance, yet seem to feel
that all is right? Charles's unfeigned admiration and growing interest
cannot escape that father's observing glances, yet Sir Donald seems
pleased. Esther sees all, and smiles approval. If these who kno