to the leafy angle where the avenue hedge joined that which shut off the
park from the road.

He held up a warning hand. Hume stepped warily behind him, and both men
looked through a portion of the hedge where briars were supplanted by
hazel bushes.

Capella was standing panting near a stile. A girl, dressed in muslin, and
wearing a large straw hat, was approaching.

"Great Heavens! It is Helen!" exclaimed Hume.

Brett grasped his shoulder.

"Restrain yourself," he whispered earnestly. "Luckily, Capella has not
heard you. I regret the necessity which makes us eavesdroppers, but it is
a fortunate accident, all the same. Not a word! Remember what is at
stake."

They could not see the Italian's face. His back was heaving from the
violence of his exertion. Miss Layton was walking rapidly towards the
stile. Obviously she had perceived the waiting man, and she was not
pleased.

Her pretty face, flushed and sunburnt, wore the strained aspect of a woman
annoyed, but trying to be civil.

It was she who took the initiative.

"Good day, Mr. Capella," she said pleasantly. "Why on earth did you run so