without a word to us, got out, knocked at the door, and went in. He remained inside for several minutes; when he emerged again it was in the company of a tall, weather-beaten old man whom, because of his velveteen coat and general appearance, I took to be a game-keeper. Motioning to the coachman to follow him up the road, Parslewe walked on ahead with his companion, and presently turned into a wayside wood. Coming abreast of the bridle-gate by which they had entered, we saw them in conversation with a third man, also elderly, who was felling trees; for some minutes the three stood talking together.
"What is he after now?" asked Madrasia.
I shook my head—nothing was going to draw me into speculations about Parslewe's proceedings.
"The best thing at the present juncture," said I, as oracularly as possible, "is just to let things occur. I don't know what he's after! Let him pursue it! We shall find things out as we go on."
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"I imagine—but I may be wrong—that
