There had been no opposition to Avery in her
father's tone; she was certain now that he was only discussing with
Avery what they were to do.

She had waited nearly half an hour, but the library door had not been
opened again. The closeness of the hall seemed choking her; she went
to the front door and threw it open. The evening was clear and cool;
but it was not from the chill of the air that she shivered as she gazed
out at the woods through which she had driven with Hugh the night
before. There the hunt for him had been going on all day; there she
pictured him now, in darkness, in suffering, alone, hurt, hunted and
with all the world but her against him!

She ran down the steps and stood on the lawn. The vague noises of the
house now no longer were audible. She stood in the silence of the
evening strained and fearfully listening. At first there seemed to be
no sound outdoors other than the gentle rush of the waves on the beach
at the foot of the bluff behind her; then, in the opposite direction,
she defined the undertone of some faraway confusion. Sometimes it
seemed to be shouting, next only a murmur of movement and noise. She
ran up the road a hundred yards in its direction and halted again. The
noise was nearer and clearer--a confusion of motor explosions and
voices; and now one sound clattered louder and louder and leaped nearer
rapidly and rose above the rest, the roar of a powerful motor car
racing with "cut-out" open. The rising racket of it terrified Harriet
with its recklessness and triumph. Yes; that was it; triumph! The
far-off tumult was the noise of shouts and cries of triumph; the racing
car, blaring its way through the night, was the bearer of news of
success of the search.

Harriet went colder as she knew this; then she ran up the road to meet
the car coming. She saw the glare of its headlights through the trees
past a bend in the road; she ran on and the beams of the car's
headlight straightened and glared down the road directly upon her. The
car leaped at her; she ran on toward it, arms in the air. The clatter
of the car became deafening and the machine was nearly upon her when
the driver recognized that the girl in the road was heedless and might
throw herself before him unless he stopped. He brought his car up
short and skidding. "What is it?" he cried, as he muffled the engine.

"What is it? What is it?" she cried in return.

The man recognized her. "Miss Santoine!"

"Wha