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 possess. She rose to her feet, and stood gazing and trembling. Verrell moved swiftly towards her. "Elisabeth!" he said again.

"Walter!"

Her voice came faint and low. She held out her hands as if she were suddenly going blind and needed guidance.

"Oh," she cried, as he took her in his arms. "It is you—it is you! I thought you were dead. My dear—my dear—my dear!"

It was half-an-hour after this that Hepworth came into the grove of trees. He had looked for Elisabeth along the lanes and fields and had failed to find her. Thinking that she had returned to the village he had come to the grove to take Verrell away. But as he advanced through the undergrowth he suddenly heard people talking. He went forward cautiously and recognised the voices as those of Elisabeth and Verrell. Advancing quietly towards the clearing he came close behind them. They sat on the fallen tree, talking earnestly. Verrell's arm was about his wife's