The Washington times., 1918-11-28
CHAPTER XVI.

PhiIippa, late that afternoon,
found what she ,sought-softude.
She had walked along the sands
until Dreymarsh lay out Of sight on
the other side Of a spur OF the
cliffs. Before her stretched a long
and level plain. q fringe Of sand,
and belt OF shingly beach. There
was not a sign Of any human being
in sight, aud of buildings only q
quaint tower on the far horizon
She found q dry place on the
pebbles, removed her hat and sat
down, hor hands clasped around her
knees. her eyes =turned seaward-
She had come out here to think. but
1t was odd how. fugitive and tram
sient her thoughts Became. Her
husband was always there in the
background. but in those moments
It was Lessingham who. was the
predominant figure. She remem-
bered his earnestness. his tender
solicitude for her,. the courage
which, when necessity remanded,
had famed up In him, born and
natural quality. She remembered
the agony OF those few minutes on
the preceding day. when nothing
but what still seemed a miracle had
herself inclined to pray that he
might never come back, At an
other, her heart ached to see him
once more. Nr
She knew so we'll that II he came
1t would be for her sake. that he
would come to ask her finally the
question with which she. had
fenced. She knew. too. that his
coming would be the moment Of her
life. She was so much OF q, woman,
and the passionate craving OF her
sex to give love for love was there
In her heart. almost omnipotent-
And in the background there was
that bitter desire to bring suffering
upon the man who had treated her
like a child, who had placed her
in a false position with all other
women, who had dwadled and
idled away his days. needless of his
duty, needless of every serious
obligation. When she tried to rea-
SON, her way seemed so clear, and
yet. behind II all, there was that
cold impulse OF almost Victorian
prudqishness, the Inheritance Of a
long line OF virtuous women. q
prudishness which she had once,
when she had believed that Il was
part of her second nature, scoffed
at as being the outcome OF one OF
the finer forms Of selhshness.
She told herself that she had
come there to decide, and decision
came no nearer to her. A laSe after
noon star shone weakly in the sky.
A faint, vaporous mist obseured the
horizon and hoated In tangled
vreaths upon the face OF the sea
Only that line of sand seemed still
clear-cut and distinct, and as she
glanced along II her eyes were held
by something approaching, some
thing which seemed at first moth
ing but a black, moving speck, then
gradually resolved itself into the
semblance Of a man on horseback,
galloping furiously. She watched
him as he drew nearer and nearer.
the sand flying from his horses
hoofs, his figure motionless, his
eyes apparently fixed upon some
distant spot It was not until he
had come within fifty yards OF her
that she recognized him. His horse
SHE'D at the sight Of her and was
suddenly swung around with a pow
erful wrist Little specks of sand,
churned up in the momentary
stampede Of hoofs, fell upon her
skirt. For the rest. she watched
the struggle eomposedly. a struggle
which was over almost as soon as
1t was begun. Captain Griffiths
leaned down from his trembling
but subdued horse.
Lady Cranston!' he exclaimed In
establishment.
That's me-" she replied. smiling
up at him. Have you been riding
on your bad temper?" 80.
He glanced down at his horses
quivering sides. Back as far as one
could see there was that regular
line of hoof marks.
"Am bad-tempered?" he asked.
"weII," she observed, IT don't
know you well enough to answer
that question, I was simply think.
ing of yesterday evening"
He slipped from his horse and
stood before her. His long severe
face had seldom seemed more
mRlevolent.
~ had enough to make me bad
tered" he declared. 81 had tracked
down a German SPY. step by step
unt1 had him thsFa. w1fttAE fur