there all night
on the chance of his coming. After what we know of the man's strange
powers, there seems nothing unreasonable to me in his being able to
impress upon my mind the fact that he wants to see me."

"I quite agree with you there, and his aid might be invaluable. You are
not the sort of man to have delusions, Bathurst, and I quite believe
what you say. I feel more hopeful now than I have done for some time."

An hour's hard work, and a hole was made through the soil, which was but
three feet thick. Bathurst climbed up the ladder and looked out.

"It is as we thought, Doctor; we are in the middle of that thicket. Now
I will go and dress if you will keep guard here with your rifle."

At the end of the gallery a figure was standing; it was Isobel Hannay.

"I have heard you are going out again, Mr. Bathurst."

"Yes, I am going to see what I can do in the way of making terms for
us."

"You may not come back again," she said nervously.

"That is, of course, possible, Miss Hannay, but I do not think the risk
is greater than that run by those who stay here."

"I want to speak to you before you go," she said; "I have wanted to
speak so long, but you have never given me an opportunity. We may never
meet again, and I must tell you how sorry I am--how sorry I have been
ever since for what I said. I spoke as a foolish girl, but I know better
now. Have I not seen how calm you have been through all our troubles,
how you have devoted yourself to us and the children, how you have kept
up all our spirits, how cheerfully you have worked, and as our trouble
increased we have all come to look up to you and lean upon you. Do say,
Mr. Bathurst, that you forgive me, and that if you return we can be
friends as we were before."

"Certainly I forgive you if there is anything to forgive, Miss Hannay,"
he said gravely. "Nothing that you or anyone can say can relieve me of
the pain of knowing that I have been unable to take any active part in
your defense, that I have been forced to play the part of a woman rather
than a man; but assuredly, if I return, I shall be glad to be again your
friend, which, indeed. I have never ceased to be at heart."

Perhaps she expected something more, but it did not come. He spoke
cordially, but yet as one who felt that there was an impassible barrier
between them. She stood irresolute for a moment, and then held out her
hand. "Goodby, then," she said.

He held it a moment. "Goodby, Miss Hannay.