the town. No, there was no hope; he would see her no more that night.
He rose listlessly to go back to bed, tired out with his day's
climb. And as he stood up, there, above the ivy again, he saw her face
looking down upon him.

How had she crossed the terrace without his hearing her? How long had
she been there? But what matter? At least she was there. And those
eyes looking into his out of the shadow, what did they say? Surely
they smiled at him. Paul jumped on to the bench. Now he was almost
level with her face--almost--and his was raised eagerly in
expectation. Was he dreaming, or did she whisper something? The sound
was so soft he was not quite sure. He stretched out his arms to her in
the darkness, pulling himself by the ivy nearer still. And this time
there was no mistake.

"Come, Paul," she said. "I have some words to say to you."

And round to the little gate Paul flew.




CHAPTER III


Paul was never quite sure of what happened that evening--everything
was so wonderful, so unusual, so unlike his ordinary life. The gate
was unlocked he found when he got there, but no one appeared to be
inside, and he bounded up the steps and on to the terrace. Silence and
darkness--was she fooling him then? No, there she was by one of the