ing!"

There was a spot of light far off, moving slowly.

"I can hear the oars," he added presently.

It was in a lull of the soughing wind. A minute after there came a
shout from far across the black surface. Denzil replied to it, and so
at length the boat drew near.

Mr. Liversedge stood up, and Quarrier talked with him in brief, grave
sentences. Then a second lantern was lighted by the boatman, and
presently the dragging began.

Wrapped in a long cloak, Mrs. Wade stood at a distance, out of sight of
the water, but able to watch Denzil. When cold and weariness all but
overcame her, she first leaned against the trunk of a tree, then
crouched there on the ground. For how long, she had no idea. A little
rain fell, and afterwards the sky showed signs of clearing; stars were
again visible here and there. She had sunk into a half-unconscious
state, when Quarrier's voice spoke to her.

"You must go home," he said, hoarsely. "It's over."

She started up.

"Have they found"----

"Yes.--Go home at once."

He turned away, and she hurried from the spot with bowed head.

CHAPTER XXVI

"Oh, depend upon it," said Mrs. Tenterden, in her heavy, consequential
way, "there's more behind than _we_ shall ever know! 'Unsound mind,'
indeed She was no more of unsound mind than _I_ am!"

It was after church, and Mrs. Mumbray, alone this morning, had offered
the heavy lady a place in her brougham. The whole congregation had but
one topic as they streamed into the unconsecrated daylight. Never was
such eagerness for the strains of the voluntary which allowed them to
start up from attitudes of profound meditation, and look round for
their acquaintances. Yesterday's paper--the _Polterham Examiner_
unfortunately--reported the inquest, and people had to make the most of
those meagre paragraphs--until the _Mercury_ came out, when fuller and
less considerate details might be hoped for. The whispering, the
nodding, the screwing up of lips, the portentous frowning and the
shaking of heads--no such excitement was on record!

"To me," remarked Mrs. Mumbray, with an air of great responsibility,
"the mystery is too plain. I don't hint at _the worst_--it would be
uncharitable--but the poor creature had undoubtedly made some discovery
in that woman's house which drove her to despair."

Mrs. Tenterden gave a start.

"You really think so? That has occurred to me. Mrs. Wade's fainting
when she gave her evidence--oh dear, oh dear! I'm