How she got through that day, she never afterwards knew.  The hours dragged leaden-footed.  There was nothing to be done.  She would not leave the house lest by some impossible chance he might arrive before the afternoon, but she felt that to stay within its walls was unendurable.  So for the most part she paced the terrace, breathing the dank, autumnal air, picturing every phase of his journey, but never daring to picture his arrival, praying piteous, disjointed prayers that only her own soul seemed to hear.

The afternoon began to wane, and dusk came down.  A small drifting rain set in with the darkness, but she was not even aware of it till David, very deferential and subdued, came to her and suggested that if she would wait in the hall Sir Piers would see her at once, as he had taken the liberty to turn on all the lights.

She knew that the old man made the suggestion out of the goodness of his heart, and she fell in with it, realizing the wisdom of going within.  But when she found herself in the full glare of the great hall, alone with those shining suits of armour that mounted guard on each side of the fireplace, the awful suspense came upon her with a force that nothing could alleviate.  She turned with sick loathing from the tea-tray that David had placed for her so comfortingly close to the fire.  Every moment that passed was an added torture.  It was dark, it was late.  The conviction was growing in her heart that when they came at last, they would bring with them only her husband’s dead body.

She rose and went to the open door.  Where was his spirit now, she wondered?  Had he leapt ahead of that empty, travelling shell?  Was he already close—­close—­his arm entwined in hers?  She covered her face with her hands.  “Oh, Piers, I can’t go on alone,” she sobbed.  “If you are dead—­I must die too!”

And then, as though in obedience to a voice that had spoken within her, she raised her head again and gazed forth.  The rain had drifted away.  Through scudding clouds of darkness there shone, serene and splendid, a single star.  Her heart gave a great throb, and was still.

“The Star of Hope!” she murmured wonderingly.  “The Star of Hope!”

And in that moment inexplicably yet convincingly she knew that her prayers that had seemed so fruitless had been heard, and that an answer was very near at hand....

There came the sound of a horn from the direction of the lodge.  They were coming.

She turned her head and looked down the dark avenue.  But she was no longer agitated or distressed by fear.  She knew not what might be in store for her, but somehow, mystically, she had been endued with strength to meet it unafraid.

She heard the soft buzz of a high-powered car, and presently two lights appeared at the further end.  They came towards her swiftly, almost silently.  It was like the swoop of an immense bird.  And then in the strong glare shed forth by the hall-lamps she saw the huge body of an ambulance-car, and a Red Cross flared symbolic in the light.