away from Aurora, happily and yet almost painfully aware that her arm
could not help pressing against his. The horses' hoofs beat rhythmically
on the hard high road, with the steady, cheerful energy which would tell
a blind man that a team is well fed, fresh from rest, and altogether fit
for a long day's work. The grey-haired coachman sat on his box like an
old dragoon in the saddle; the young groom sat bolt upright beside him
with folded arms, as if he could never tire of sitting straight. The
whole party looked prosperous, harmonious, healthy, and perfectly happy,
as if nothing in the least unpleasant could possibly happen to them,
still less anything terrible, that could suddenly change all their
lives.

One of fate's favourite tricks is to make life look particularly gay and
enjoyable, and full of sunshine and flowers, at the very moment when
terror wakes from sleep and steps out of the shadow to stalk abroad.

The cottage where the party were going to spend the next few days
together was built like an Indian bungalow, consisting of a single story
surrounded by a broad, covered verandah, and having a bit of lawn in
front. It was sheltered by trees, and between it and the beach a bank
of sand from ten to fifteen feet high ran along the shore, the work of
the southwest gales during many ages. In many places this bank was
covered with scrub and brushwood on the landward side.

A little stream meandered down to the sea on the north side of the
cottage, ending in a pool full of tall reeds, amongst which one could
get about in a punt. The seashore itself is very shelving at that place,
and there is a bar about a cable's length out, over which the sea breaks
with a tremendous roar during westerly storms. Two hundred yards from
the cottage, a large hut had been built for the men-servants and for the