She looked at him with dazed glance and put her hand to her head. "I
cannot think," she said slowly.

He nodded with steady glance. "When we go, you tell--we find her," he
said.

She started then and looked at him--and the clear colour came to her
face. "You know--where--she is!"

But he shook his head. "We find her," he repeated. "You tell."

And as they threaded the streets--into drays and past clanging cars and
through the tangle of wheels and horses and noise--and she told him the
story, shouting it above the rumble and hurry of the streets, into the
dark ear that bent beside her.

The look in Achilles's face deepened, but its steady quiet did not
change. "We find her," he repeated each time, and Miss Stone's heart
caught the rhythm of it, under the hateful noise. "We find her."

Then the great house on the lake faced them.

She looked at him a minute in doubt. Her face broke--"She may have
come--home?" she said.

"I go with you," said Achilles.

There was no sign of life, but the door swung open before them and they
went into the great hall--up the long stairway that echoed only vacant