onic that was blown to him through the open window
affected his spirits like wine. The breeze promised victory. He had been
idle and dilatory, he told himself; but he was older, the present was
his, and he felt the strength to make it wholly to his use. The past
would be forgotten and put aside; no, but utterly, as Nature
forgets--and in the future, what things might be!

"O Magali, ma bien aimee,
Fuyons tous deux, tous de--ux----"

The old song came back to him, and as he set out for the villa he hummed
it gayly to himself. The villa was but the throw of a stone from the
hotel, and in a moment he would be there. He was just a little bit
nervous, and he walked rapidly. As he reached the gate his excitement
increased. In his breast was a tightening sensation. And then at once he
stopped short. On the door of the cottage hung a sign, bearing for
legend, "To Let--Furnished."

"But it is impossible," he exclaimed, "they were to be here till
October."

He went up and rang the bell. The front windows were closed and barred.
The porch on which he stood was chairless. He listened, and heard no
sound. He tried the door--it was locked.

"But it is impossible," he kept repeating. "H'm! 'To let--furnished; for
particulars apply to J. F. Brown, at the Casino.' Most certainly, I
will--most certainly," and monologuing in the fashion that was peculiar
to him, he went down the road again, mindful only of his own perplexity.

On reaching the Casino he found that he would have no difficulty in
seeing the agent. Mr. Brown, the door-keeper told him, was "right in
there," and as he gave this information he pointed to a cramped little
office which stood to the left of the entrance.

"Is this Mr. Brown?" Tristrem began. "Mr. Brown, I am sorry to trouble
you. Would you be good enough to tell me about Mrs. Raritan's cottage.
I----"

"For next summer? Nine hundred, payable in advance."

"I didn't mean about the price. I meant--I was told that Mrs. Raritan
had taken it until October----"

"So she did. You can sublet for the balance of the season."

"Thank you--yes--but Mrs. Raritan hasn't gone away, has she?"

"She went weeks ago. There's nothing the matter with the cottage,
however. Drainage excellent."

"I have no doubt. But can you tell me where Mrs. Raritan went to?"

"I haven't the remotest idea. Lenox, perhaps. If you want to look at the
cottage I'll give you the key."

"I should think----Really, I must apologize f