That the man who had come there by stealth was no stranger was evident;
yet that between them was some deep-rooted enmity was equally apparent.
Nevertheless, he held her irresistibly within his toils. His
clean-shaven face was a distinctly evil one. His eyes were set too close
together, and in his physiognomy was something unscrupulous and
relentless. He was not the man for a woman to trust.

She stepped back from the threshold, and for a few seconds halted
outside, her ears strained to catch any sound. Then, as though
reassured, she pushed the chestnut hair from her hot, fevered brow, held
her breath with strenuous effort, and, re-entering the library, advanced
to her father's side.

"I wondered where you had gone, dear," he said in his low, calm voice,
as he detected her presence. "I hoped you would not leave me for long,
for it is not very often we enjoy an evening so entirely alone as
to-night."

"Leave you, dear old dad! Why, of course not!" She laughed gaily, as
though nothing had occurred to disturb her peace of mind. "We were just
about to look at those seals Professor Moyes sent you to-day, weren't
we? Here they are;" and she placed them before the helpless and
afflicted man, endeavouring to remain undisturbed, and taking a chair at
his side, as was her habit when they sat together.

"Yes," he said cheerfully. "Let us see what they are."

The first of the yellow sulphur-casts which he examined bore the
full-length figure of an abbot, with mitre and crosier, in the act of
giving his blessing. Behind him were three circular towers with pointed