the driver of the hansom cab which pauline had chartered did his duty nobly by his fare. in going so long a distance, and on a comparatively deserted road, he knew too well the impossibility of concealing his pursuit from the observation of his brother jehu; indeed, no sooner did they pass the confines of guelph park than the driver who had martin in his charge turned round, and there ensued between the two men an interchange of signs familiar only to the initiated of the craft, which set them both at their ease, and prevented farther interrogation. pauline's driver followed the other hansom at sufficient distance never to lose sight of it; and when martin gurwood stopped the cab and alighted from it, the pursuing cabman drew up at a convenient bend of the road and communicated the fact to his fare. then pauline jumped out, discharged the man--she would provide her own means of return, she said--and slowly and stealthily followed martin's retreating figure.

the pursuit in which she was engaged was by no means unpleasant to pauline; indeed, she rather liked it. there was, as has before been noticed, something stealthy and cat-like in her nature and her manner; and the mere fact that, unknown to him, she was watching a person who was evidently engaged in a private mission, the discovery of which might seriously affect him, and would in any event be disagreeable to him, had for her a potent charm. as she journeyed onward in the cab, her thoughts had been fixed upon the object of martin gurwood's secret expedition. that it was of importance she was certain, or he would not otherwise have refused with so much decision his mother's request that he should devote the day to the inspection of documents in mr. jeffrey's company. that it had to do with the mystery of calverley and claxton, and consequently with the greater, and to her far more interesting mystery of tom durham's disappearance, she fully believed. as yet she had been able to discover nothing concerning the paper which she had found in the wooden box underneath mr. calverley's desk, the memorandum of the transfer of two thousand pounds 'to be given to t.d. at the request of a.c.' perhaps the very business on which she was engaged might give her some clue to it--might reveal the identity of this claxton which mr. calverley had so pertinaciously concealed from her. once brought face to face with him, she could readily trust to her own wit and tact to extract from him the information she required, or, at all events, to learn something that would be of service to her in accomplishing her self-imposed task.

what can there be for martin gurwood to search after in this queer, out-of-the-world village, amongst these old-fashioned cottages, standing back in gardens, where the size of the trees, the hedges, and the evergreens shows the length of time they have been growing? this man claxton cannot live in this place, so remote from the bustle of life, so inaccessible to ordinary traffic. this is a spot to which one might retire for rest and. repose after a long career of business. what has brought martin gurwood to such a place? whom can he be seeking here?

as these thoughts passed through pauline's mind, the object of her pursuit turned from the high road and passed out of her sight. she noted the spot where he had disappeared, and when she reached it was just in time to see him leaning over the half-gate, and contemplating the garden stretched out before him. pauline paused at the end of the road until she saw him open the gate and enter the garden; then she slowly sauntered on.

when pauline reached the gate martin gurwood had disappeared. the gate, slammed to by the spring attached to it, was still vibrating on its hinges, his retreating footsteps on the gravel path were still faintly audible, but the man himself was not to be seen. so far, then, she had succeeded. she had tracked him to the house which he had come to visit; now she must ascertain: what was his business there.

how to set about this perplexed her sorely. a score of different notions rushed into her mind. it would be easy to ascertain the name and character of the occupant of the house from any of the tradespeople in the village, but on looking round pauline found that there were no shops within sight, and she was fearful that during the time occupied by her absence martin gurwood might leave the place. should she open the gate, boldly march up the carriage-drive, and ask for the master of the house, trusting to herself to find some pretext for addressing him when he came? that would lay her open to the chance of martin gurwood's seeing her before she had been able to gain any information, and either postponing the business which had brought him there, or deceiving her as to its nature. she must think it all over more carefully before she acted, and meanwhile she would walk round and survey the premises.

the cottage stood, as has been stated, in the midst of a very large old-fashioned garden. on the left of this garden was a narrow path, bounded on one side by the garden itself; on the other by a huge hedge belonging to doctor broadbent, and encouraged by him in its wildest luxuriance, to screen his premises from the observation of such of the villagers as used the path for the short cut from the village to the london road. the hedge had at one time been equally luxuriant on the rose-cottage side, but alice had strong notions of the necessity for plenty of air, and had persuaded john to have it trimmed to a moderate height. 'what on earth do we want with that great green screen keeping off every breath of air,' she said; 'and as for what mr. broadbent says about privacy, that is all nonsense. not ten people in the day go down the lane, and none of them ever think of looking into our garden. if they did, they would be perfectly welcome; would they not, john? i am sure there is nothing here that we wish to conceal; is there, dear?' and john acquiescing, as he did in everything she proposed, the hedge was trimmed accordingly. so that pauline, walking down this path, found that as soon as she had proceeded a certain distance she had an uninterrupted view of the back of the house, and of a large portion of the garden.

she knew nothing of horticulture, and had never given any attention to gardens, they had not come into her line of life, but she was always observant, and she noticed the trim and orderly manner in which this place was kept, and thought that it reflected great credit on the gardener, whom she saw in the distance wheeling away a great load of dead leaves, which he had collected into a heap and pressed into his barrow. she was about to call the man to her, and compliment him on the state of his garden, at the same time taking advantage of the opportunity of asking a few questions about his employer, when a little girl, with long fair hair streaming down her back, ran out of the shrubbery in chase of an india-rubber ball which bounded before her.

pauline drew back for an instant, but the child did not notice her, so engrossed was she by her game. in a few minutes, however, the ball bounded over the hedge, and fell at pauline's feet.

the child looked round for aid, which was generally available in the person of the gardener; but the gardener had wheeled his barrow out of sight by this time, and all that the child could do, therefore, was to put her finger to her lip, and burst into tears.

'don't cry, my child,' said pauline softly, speaking to her.

the child looked up, but on catching sight of pauline hid her face in her hands, and cried more copiously than before.

'don't cry, my child,' repeated pauline; 'don't be afraid. see, here is your ball,' holding it up. 'shall i throw it to you.'

'ess,' said the child, looking up shyly through her fingers, 'frow it down at wonst, pease.'

pauline complied. the ball fell at the child's feet, and rolled a little distance behind her, but she took no notice of it; she was fully occupied in examining her newly found friend.

out of her great blue eyes the child stared in silence for some moments, then coming closer to the hedge she said, still staring earnestly, 'are you a hinjin?'

pauline was completely puzzled.

'a what, child?' she asked.

'a hinjin,' repeated the child. do you tum from hinjia?'

'gr--r--rand dieu!' cried pauline, surprised into one of the exclamations of her old life. 'no, child; what makes you think that?'

'tos you have dot a brack face, and you speak so funny,' said the child.

pauline smiled. 'a black face,' she said to herself. 'i am swarthy enough, i know; but if this child thinks me black, she must needs have lived with very fair people. she seems sufficiently intelligent, and may probably be able to give me some information. what is your name, my dear?' she said to the child.

'bell,' said the child promptly.

'bell!' repeated pauline; what a pretty name--blonde et belle! what is your other name, my dear?'

the child thought for a moment, and then said gravely, 'lickle bell.'

'o, but you must have some other name besides that,' said pauline. 'what is your other name?'

'no more,' said the child, shaking her head.

'yes, but your nom de famille--your family name. you have that?'

'no, no, no,'. said the child, emphasising each word with a shake of her head.

'but your papa--'

'he's dorn away travelling on 'ail'oad.'

'gone travelling on the railroad, has he? has your mamma gone with him?'

'no, me mamma's at home--been teaching me my 'cripture 'istory.'

'what a kind, good mamma!' said pauline, with a curling lip. 'and what is your mamma's name, dear?'

'misse c'axton, 'ose tottage, 'endon, mid'sex,' said the child, all in a breath, the sentence being evidently the result of much practice.

mrs. claxton, the wife of the man at whose request mr. calverley had given the two thousand pounds to tom durham. ah, how pauline's heart bounded, and how the colour flushed into her swarthy cheeks, at hearing those words! she had been right, then; the instinct that so seldom deserted her had served her truly in this instance. she had felt all along that the secret business on which martin gurwood had been engaged had some reference to her affairs, and now she had proved it.

what were the relations between martin gurwood and mrs. claxton? pshaw! had her steady business-like brain taken to weaving romances? what more likely than that mrs. calverley's son should come out to seek an interview on business matters with the wife of her dead husband's partner? stay, though--with the partner, yes; but the child had said that mr. claxton was away travelling on business. pauline knew of her own knowledge that mrs. calverley had never seen mr. claxton, much less his wife, and recognised at once that had business been the object of the interview, it was mr. jeffreys who would have been dispatched to seek an interview with the partner, and not mr. gurwood to see the wife. the mystery still remained in fullest force, and had yet to be elucidated by her.

of what more use could the child be to her? the child, who, seeing her newly-found friend immersed in her own thoughts, had again turned to her ball. there might be still some more information to be obtained, and pauline would try and gain it.

'and so your papa is not at home?' she commenced.

'tavelling on 'ail'oad,' said the child, making the ball bound again.

'and your mamma is all alone?'

'not all alone now, gemply tum. mamma thought it was papa, and me got off 'cripture 'istory. me saw it was strange gemply, and run off wif my ball.'

'a strange gentleman, eh?' said pauline. did you never see him before?'

'me never saw him before; me wish he would always come at

lesson-time.'

'and how long has your papa been away from home?'

'two, free weeks, two, free months. me frow my ball to you, and you frow me back again.'

as she spoke the ball came bounding across the hedge. pauline took it up and threw it back to the child.

'do you know mr. calverley, dear?' she asked, as bell stood with the ball in her hand, ready to launch it at her again.

'misse calverley,' repeated the child, 'me not know him; me know doctor broadbent, what brings nassie powders in his pocket.'

'you don't know mr. calverley?'

'no, me not know misse calverley. me go and get george to play at ball,' she added, after a moment's pause, finding that there was no more amusement to be had from her newly-found friend, and running away after the gardener.

pauline watched the child disappear in the shrubbery, then folding her arms across her breast, fell into her old habit of walking to and fro to think out, the emotions under which she was labouring.

'perhaps she had deceived herself after all, perhaps her fertile brain had been conjuring up and giving life and name to a set of phantoms. there was no evidence to connect this mrs. claxton with the pale-faced woman whom she had seen at southampton, who might have been a mere emissary of tom's, employed by him to get the money and bring it to him there. it seemed impossible that the wife of such a man as mr. claxton, who was on all sides represented to be a partner in the house of calverley and company, could descend to such a position; it seemed impossible that--' she stopped in her, walk motionless and transfixed.

she had been looking at the house, and at one of the lower windows, a large french window opening on to the grounds, she suddenly saw the figure of a woman. she recognised it in an instant; recognised it as the pale-faced woman whom she had seen walking to and fro on the railway platform at southampton with tom durham, and of whom he had taken such an affectionate farewell; pale-faced still, and tearful, with bent head, and wringing hands. she stands for a moment alone, the next instant she is joined by martin gurwood, who seems by his actions to be exhorting her to confidence and courage. it is, of course, by their actions alone that pauline can judge what they are doing, but her southern nature leads her to translate their pantomime, feeble though it may be, more readily than could any one less accustomed to gesture and action. see her bent head, her shrinking figure, her hands outspread before her. then notice his look turned upward, the growing uprightness of his stately figure, his elevated hand. evidently she is giving way under the weight of some distress, while he is consoling her, and, as pauline judges from his actions, pointing out to her the course of duty. the reverend's consolation has but little effect, pauline thinks, as the pale-faced woman, giving way to her grief, sinks upon the ground, and lies prostrate at her companion's feet.

now to see what is the exact state of the relations between them, now to see whether the secret which from the first she has believed martin gurwood to be concealing in his breast has reference to a woman; whether this misogynist, as his friends think him, and as he strives to prove himself, is but as other men are, frail and feeble, liable to be diverted from his path of duty, and to be turned hither and thither by a woman's influence.

by martin's actions the reply is patent to her at once. had be been this woman's lover, had he been striving to become her lover, he would have cast himself down on his knees beside her, and striven to have raised her, bidding her repose herself and her grief on him. as it was, he stood there looking at her, as pauline could distinguish, with eyes full of sorrowful regard, with head bent, and hands that involuntarily sought to raise her, and were then restrained and folded across his breast. no farther action, no movement of his lips so far as she could see. 'it is in his capacity as priest,' she said to herself, 'that he is here; there is no question of his being this woman's lover; evidently she is suffering from some great trouble, and he has come to announce it to her. they are not as our priests, these protestants, and he is an englishman besides. he has told his story in their usual cold, matter-of-fact unimpassioned way, and awaits now quietly until she shall arise from the swoon into which the receipt of the intelligence has thrown her. so far i have been wrong. that he has a secret, i still believe; but that it is not in the least connected with this woman i am sure. what it may be i have still to learn; and i will learn it, that it may give me power over him, and, through him, over his mother, whom i intend to minister to my comforts, and to be my principal source of support for years to come. this pale-faced woman too!' she had thought that she had brought down both the birds with one stone; now each mystery was still a sealed book to her.

how was she to get at them? it would have been useless to inquire of the tradespeople in the village now, who would simply tell her what she knew already, the name of the occupant of rose cottage, of his station in life, of his position as mr. calverley's partner. of all this she was already aware. from whom was she to learn more? from martin gurwood himself, and no one else. she must brave it out with him; she must bring to that interview, which must take place at once, all her courage and all her knowledge of the world; the one to bear her up in confronting the rage which he would undoubtedly feel at finding he had been followed; the other in enabling her to see through any deception he might try to practise upon her.

see! they move. the pale-faced woman rises from the floor. ah, with what dignity, pauline acknowledges to herself, keeping her eyes straight upon the window. she stands upright now before her companion, and is evidently speaking with simple unexaggerated action. he is striving to refute what she is saying, if he can be judged by the bending of his shoulders, by the moving of his hand. he fails, though; pauline sees that. then he bows in taking his leave, and disappears.

what she has to do must be done at once. she is to meet and confront him, and brazen it out before him. she had noticed that the cab in which he had come, after setting him down, had rolled off in the direction of the village. to get to the village, he must pass the end of the path in which she then stood. if she could get there before him, she would be in time. in another instant she had gathered her skirt around her, and set off into a swift and steady run. she reached the end of the path as martin gurwood emerged through the garden-gate, and remained still, awaiting his approach.

he came on steadily, his eyes fixed upon the ground, until he was within a short distance of her. then he looked up, and wavered in his walk for an instant, seeing her planted directly in his path. for an instant; the next, he continued his advance--continued it even when she threw back her veil, and when, as she saw by a quick upward glance at him, he recognised her features.

it was best, she thought, that she should speak first.

'good morning, mr. gurwood,' she said in a light and pleasant tone. 'you are surprised to see me here?'

his face was stern and rigid, as he replied: 'had it been any one else, i might have been surprised; in madame du tertre such conduct appears to me perfectly natural, and what i always imagined her perfectly capable of being guilty of.'

'such conduct! guilty of!' she repeated. 'this is harsh language, monsieur martin. of what conduct, pray, have i been guilty?'

'of following me and spying out my actions, madame; of that there can be little doubt.'

'and yet at that you are not surprised,' she said, with a laugh. 'you had so low an opinion of me, that you take "such conduct" as a matter of course. well, i am not disposed to deny it. i have followed you, and i have, as you call it, spied upon your actions. it is for you to explain them.'

'to explain them!' cried martin gurwood, with a burst of indignation; 'to whom, pray? to my conscience i can explain them readily enough; to those who have any claim upon me to ask for an explanation, i can give it. but to you, in what capacity am i to explain it?'

'in my capacity as mrs. calverley's friend and agent,' said pauline, making a bold stroke. 'i am here in her interests; it is by her that i am authorised to do what i have done.'

the shot had told; she saw its effect at once in his blanched cheek and his hesitating manner.

'you have come here as my mother's agent?' he asked.

'i have,' she replied, looking him straight in the face.

'then,' he said after a moment's pause, 'if you are really and truly her friend, i must ask you in her interests to conceal from her all you have seen; to tell her a story in no way bearing upon the truth, to divert her thoughts and suspicions--for she must needs suspect, if she has employed you, as you say, to watch me in what i do--into some totally different channel.'

pauline smiled grimly. 'i thought so,' she exclaimed. 'it will not suit the reverend martin gurwood, rigid moralist, the most holy of men, to have it known, even by his mother, that he has been to visit a pretty woman, and that his conversation with her has been of such effect that she has cast herself at his feet during her husband's absence, and that he has been enabled to give her consolation in her deepest sorrow.'

'if your taunt fell upon me, and upon me alone,' said martin, drawing himself up, and looking straight at her, 'it would be harmless enough, but i have others to think of, and others to shield. if you knew who the lady is of whom you are speaking in this thoughtless manner, you would--'

'i know well enough,' said pauline, with a sneer; 'this woman--this friend of yours, is the wife of mr. claxton, the partner of your mother's husband, whom you have just buried.'

'you think so,' cried martin. 'she thinks so herself; but it is for me to undeceive you, though i have kept the truth from her. this woman is one whom mr. calverley most basely deceived. under a false name--the name which you have mentioned--he wooed and won her; and she, at this moment, believes herself to be his widow.'