"So the House of the Silent Sorrow, as they call it, is to be our
destination! I must confess that the place has ever held a strange
fascination for me. We will go over the golf links and behind Ovingdean
village. It is a rare spot for a tragedy."

Bell rose and lighted a fresh cigar.

"Come along," he said. "Poke that Rembrandt behind your books with its
face to the wall. I would not lose that for anything now. No, on second
thoughts I find I shall have to take it with me."

David closed the door carefully behind him, and the two stepped out into
the night.




CHAPTER XIII

"GOOD DOG!"


Two dancing eyes of flame were streaming up the lane towards the girls, a
long shadow slanted across the white pathway, the steady flick of hoofs
drew nearer. Then the hoofs ceased their smiting of the dust and a man's
voice spoke.

"Better turn and wait for us by the farm, driver," the voice said. "Bell,
can you manage, man?"