Durgan was not calm. He felt his hand tremble as he brought from the shelf a book which Bertha had asked for.

Ten minutes before a contention had arisen between himself and Bertha as to the time of the moon's rising. To satisfy himself he had walked on the soft grass as far as the gable of the house nearest his footpath. Watching a moment in the shadow, he had heard a movement in the wood. As the first moon-rays lit the gloom he saw the figure of a woman standing on the low bough of an old oak and reaching a long arm toward an upper branch. All the oaks here were stunted and easy to climb. That this was Adam's wife he did not doubt, till, when she had lightly jumped down, he discerned that she was returning attended by the dogs.

Durgan went back hastily lest Bertha should follow him. He reported only the rising of the moon. A moment's thought convinced him that he had been invited that evening for the purpose of keeping Bertha from the knowledge of her sister's excursion. No one but Miss Smith could have taken the dogs. He guessed that she had fulfilled some promise to the boy, 'Dolphus- some promise given him on the slip of paper in the bank-note, of putting money where he might seek it. Amazing as the method resorted to was, Durgan felt no doubt that Miss Smith's action was wise and right in her own eyes, but he was convinced that she was putting herself in danger.