A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. Eric Vorsack still toiled at work. He was beginning to think about her inordinately. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. He was part of the firm Martyska, Seeberg, and Diedermayer. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. And while her son was reconveyed to prison the body of the unfortunate Mrs.
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