" Neither man spoke. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. "I'll run and bring him back. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. You are in danger. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. " "Well, it's mighty fine of you to break your journey in this fashion—for someone you don't know, a passer-by. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. And talking of every conceivable thing. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague.
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