his dishonour.

He knew very well what those twinkling lights denoted. He could almost
hear the clatter round the tea-table, the witless jests of the
youngsters, the careless laughter of the women, the trivial, merry
nonsense that was weaving another hour of happiness into the golden
skein of happy hours. Contemptible, of course! Vanity of vanities! But
how infinitely precious is even such vanity as this to those who stand
outside!

The rain was beginning to patter through the trees. It would be a wet
night. With his collar turned up to his ears, he trudged forward. He
cared little for the rain. For twelve long years he had lived an outdoor
life.

There were no lights visible in his own abode. The old woman who kept
his house was doubtless gossiping with some crony up at the castle.

With his hand on the garden gate, he looked back at its distant, shining
front. Then, with a shrug, as if impatient with himself for lingering,
he turned to walk up the short, flagged pathway that led to his own
door.

At the same instant a cry of pain--a woman's cry--came sharply through
the dripping stillness of the trees. He turned back swiftly, banging the
gate behind him.

A long slope rose, tree-covered, from the other side of the road. He
judged the sound to have come from that direction, and he hurried
towards it with swinging strides. Reaching the deep shadow, he paused,
peering upwards.

At once a voice he knew called to him, but in such accents of agony that
he hardly recognised it.

"Oh, come and help me! I'm here--caught in a trap! I can't move!"

In a moment he was crashing through the undergrowth with the furious
recklessness of a wild animal.

"I am coming! Keep still!" he shouted as he went.

He found her crouched in a tiny hollow close to a narrow footpath that
ran through the wood. She was on her knees, but she turned a deathly
face up to him as he reached her. She was sobbing like a child.

"They are great iron teeth," she gasped, "fastened in my hand. Can you
open them?"

"Don't move!" he ordered, as he dropped down beside her.

It was a poacher's trap, fortunately of a species with which he was
acquainted. Her hand was fairly gripped between the iron jaws. He
wondered with a set face if those cruel teeth had met in her delicate
flesh.

She screamed as he forced it open, and fell back shuddering,
half-fainting, while he lifted her torn hand and examined it in the
failing light.

It was bleeding f