class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">172

XXII. Saton Reasserts Himself 178 XXIII. An Unpleasant Encounter 186 XXIV. Lois is Obedient 194 XXV. A Last Warning 202 XXVI. The Duchess’s Dinner Party 209 XXVII. The Answer to a Riddle 215 XXVIII. Spoken from the Heart 224 XXIX. The Courage of Desperation 232 XXX. A Surprising Request 239 XXXI. Between Love and Duty 248 XXXII. At the Edge of the Precipice 255 XXXIII. You Do Not Believe in Me! 261 XXXIV. A Woman’s Tongue 269 XXXV. On Lois’ Birthday 278 XXXVI. The Charlatan Unmasked 284   Epilogue—the Man 294

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ILLUSTRATIONS

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THE MOVING FINGER

PROLOGUE

THE DREAMER

The boy sat with his back to a rock, his knees drawn up and clasped within fingers nervously interlocked. His eyes were fixed upon the great stretch of landscape below, shadowy now, and indistinct, like a rolling plain of patchwork woven by mysterious fingers. Gray mists were floating over the meadows and low-lying lands. Away in the distance they marked the circuitous course of the river, which only an hour ago had shone like a belt of silver in the light of the setting sun. Twilight had fallen with unexpected swiftness. Here and there a light flashed from the isolated farmhouses. On the darkening horizon, a warm glow was reflected in the clouds from the distant town.

The boy, when he had settled down to his vigil, had been alone. From over the brow of the hill, however, had come a few minutes ago a man, dressed in loose shooting clothes, and with a gun under his arm. He came to a standstill by the side of the boy, and stood there watching him for several moments, with a certain faintly amused curiosity shining out of his somewhat supercilious gray eyes. The newcomer was obviously a person of breeding and culture—the sort of person who assumes without question the title of “Gentleman.” The boy wore ready-made clothes and hobnailed boots. They remained within a few feet of one another for several moments, without speech.

“My young friend,” the newcomer said at last, “you will be late for your tea, or whatever name is given to your evening meal. Did you not hear