ington some
thought, but to one of them was merely the natural thing.

Together Julia and Rawson-Clew walked to the outskirts of the town.
Their ways parted there--his to the left, hers to the right; it was
the port of which she had thought yesterday, the place of final
separation. He had proposed to go with her to the Van Heigens, so as
to bear testimony to what had befallen, and to assure them that she
was quite safe; but she would not have this, she felt she could manage
very much better without him, his presence would only require a good
deal of extra explanation, none too easy to give. He guessed the
reason of her refusal and saw the wisdom of it, although he felt
annoyed that she had, as he now perceived she must, concealed their
earlier acquaintance. It might have been advisable, seeing Dutch
notions of propriety; but it placed the matter in a rather invidious
light, and also began to bring home to him the fact, which grew very
much more evident before the day was over, that he had distinguished
himself by an act of really remarkable folly.

They had almost reached the town, in fact had passed some small
houses, the dwelling-places of carriage proprietors and washerwomen,
when a girl stepped out of a doorway some distance ahead of them. She
glanced in their direction, then stared.

"There's Denah," Julia said; she did not speak with consternation
though Denah was about the last person she wanted to see just then.
Consternation is a waste of time and energy when you are found out, a
bold face and immediate actions are usually best. Julia waved her hand
in cheerful greeting to the Dutch girl.

But Denah did not return the greeting; instead, after her stare of
astonished recognition, she turned and set off up the road towards
where it joined a more important street with trams, which ran into the
town.

"Hulloah?" Julia said softly, and quick as thought she turned too, and
the hand that had waved to Denah was signaling to a carriage which at
that moment drove out of a stable-yard near. A light had come into her
eyes, a dancing light like the gleam on a sword-blade. There was a
little wee smile about her lips, too, which somehow brought to
Rawson-Clew's mind a man he once knew who had sung softly to himself
all the time he prepared for the brigands who were known to be about
to rush his camp.

"She'll take a tram," Julia said gaily, looking towards the speeding
figure; "she is too careful to waste her money ev