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 from its fastening, and showed his bare muscu- lar throat. Dishevelled, torn by shrub and briar, face emaciated, eyes gleaming, he looked like a man who had walked out of a nightmare. Vermont shuddered as he looked at him and knew that he was mad.

“T shall wait,” he said; “we will both wait.”

He turned away chuckling. Vermont called to him in desperation, but received no reply. Like a phantom the man had come; like a shadow he faded away.

The long night dragged through and the day began to break, but Andromeda never came near. Then the watcher, still leaving the lamp burning, the window and doors wide open, crawled into the other room, and, dressed as he was, flung himself on the bed. Mrs. Sel- ton, coming at her usual hour, found him in a deep, uneasy sleep and wakened him; but he only turned from her and buried his face in the pillow.

How that day passed he really never knew. Now he was scouring the neighbourhood with feverish steps, inquiring of all with whom he came in contact, and now waiting, watching by,