"ELLA CAYLEY."


Was that, then, the lure which had brought John Clive to meet his
death? Was this the bait that had made him disregard the warnings
he had received, and come alone to so quiet and solitary a spot?

Dunn had a moment of quick envy of him; he lay so quiet and still
in the warm sunshine, with nothing to trouble or distress him any
more for ever.

Then, stumblingly and heavily, Dunn turned an went away, and his
eyes were very hard, his bearded face set like iron.

Like a man in a dream, or one obsessed by some purpose before which
all other things faded into nothingness, he went his way, the way
Ella had taken in her flight--through the wood, through the spinney
to the public foot-path, and then out on the road that led to
Bittermeads.

When he entered the garden there, he saw Ella sitting quietly on a
deck-chair close to her mother, quietly busy with some fancy work.

He could not believe it; he stood watching in bewilderment,
appalled and wondering, watching her white hands flashing busily
to and fro, hearing the soft murmur of her voice as now and then she
addressed some remark to her mother, who nodded drowsily in the
sunshine over a book open on her knees.

Ella was dressed all in white; she had flung aside her hat, and the