f her guilt with Eaton,
the agony of her betrayal. But their accusation that Eaton had killed
Wallace Blatchford, seeing him, knowing him--in the light--had swept
all that away; all there was of her seemed to have risen in denial of
that. Before her eyes, half shut, she saw again the body of her cousin
Wallace lying in its blood on the floor, with her father kneeling
beside it, his blind eyes raised in helplessness to the light; but she
saw now another body too--Eaton's--not here---lying somewhere in the
bare, wind-swept woods, shot down by those pursuing him.

She looked at the face of the clock and then down to the pendulum to
see whether it had stopped; but the pendulum was swinging. The hands
stood at half past one o'clock; now she recalled that, in her first
wild gaze about the room when she rushed in with the others, she had
seen the hands showing a minute or so short of twenty minutes past one.
Not quite a quarter of an hour had passed since the alarm! The pursuit
could not have moved far away. She reopened the window through which
the pursuers had passed and stepped out onto the dark lawn. She stood
drawing the robe about her against the chill night air, dazed, stunned.
The house behind her, the stables, the chauffeurs' quarters above the
garages, the gardeners' cottages, all blazed now with light, but she
saw no one about. The menservants--except the steward--had joined the
pursuit; she heard them to the south beating the naked woods and
shrubbery and calling to each other. A half mile down the beach she
heard shouts and a shot; she saw dimly through the night in that
direction a boat without lights moving swiftly out upon the lake.

Her hands clenched and pressed against her breast; she stood straining
at the sounds of the man-hunt. It had turned west, it seemed; it was
coming back her way, but to the west of the house. She staggered a
little and could not stand; she stepped away from the house in the
direction of the pursuit; following the way it seemed to be going, she
crossed the lawn toward the garage. A light suddenly shone out there,
and she went on.

The wide door at the car driveway was pushed open, and some one was
within working over a car. His back was toward her, and he was bent
over the engine, but, at the glance, she knew him and recoiled,
gasping. It was Eaton. He turned at the same instant and saw her.

"Oh; it's you!" he cried to her.

Her heart, which almost had ceased to b