"You are as pale as a
ghost."

I clutched hold of the railings. She came over to my side. Up the road
I heard in the distance the crunching of heavy wheels. A wagon was
passing through the lodge gates. John, the woodman, was walking with
unaccustomed briskness by the horses' heads, cracking his whip as he
came. I looked into the girl's face by my side.

"Miss Moyat," I said hoarsely, "can't you forget that you saw this man?"

"Why?" she asked bewildered.

"I don't want to be dragged into it," I answered, glancing nervously
over my shoulder along the road. "Don't you see that if he is just
found here with his head and shoulders in the creek, and nothing is
known about him, they will take it that he has been washed up by the sea
in the storm last night? But if it is known that he came from the land,
that he was seen in the village asking for me--then there will be many
things said."

"I don't see as it matters," she answered, puzzled. "He didn't come,
and you don't know anything about him. But, of course, if you want me
to say nothing--"

She paused. I clutched her arm.

"Miss Moyat," I said, "I have strong reasons for not wishing to be
brought into this."

"All right," she said, dropping her voice. "I will do--as you ask."

There was an absurd meaning in her little side-glance, which at another
time would have put me on my guard. But just then I was engrossed with
my own vague fears. I forgot even to remove my hand from her arm. So
we were standing, when a moment later the silence was broken by the
sound of a galloping horse coming fast across the marshes. We started
aside. Lady Angela reined in a great bay mare a few yards away from us.
Her habit was all bespattered with mud. She had evidently ridden across
country from one of the private entrances to the Park.

"What is this terrible story, Mr. Ducaine?" she exclaimed. "Is there
really a shipwreck? I can see no signs of it."

"No shipwreck that I know of, Lady Angela," I answered. "There is a
dead man here--one only. I have heard of nothing else."

Her eyes followed my outstretched hand, and she saw the body half on the
sands, half on the marsh. She shivered a little.

"Poor fellow!" she exclaimed. "Is it any one from the village, Mr.
Ducaine?"

"It is a stranger, Lady Angela," I answered. "We think that his body
must have been washed in from the sea."

She measured the distance from high-water mark with a glance, and shook
her head.

"Too far aw