How long he slept he knew not:  but what wakened him he knew full well.  Voices of people approaching; and voices which he recognised in a moment.

Sabina?  Yes; and Marie too, laughing merrily; and among their shriller tones the voice of Thurnall.  He had not heard it for years; but, considering the circumstances under which he had last heard it, there was no fear of his forgetting it again.

They came down the side-glen; and before he could rise, they had turned the sharp corner of the rock, and were in the Kaise-kellar, close to him, almost touching him.  He felt the awkwardness of his position.  To keep still was, perhaps, to overhear, and that too much.  To discover himself was to produce a scene; and he could not trust his temper that the scene would not be an ugly one, and such as women must not witness.

He was relieved to find that they did not stop.  They were laughing about the gloom; about being out so late.

“How jealous some one whom I know would be,” said Sabina, “if he found you and Tom together in this darksome den!”

“I don’t care,” said Tom; “I have made up my mind to shoot him out of hand, and marry Marie myself.  Sha’n’t I now, my—­” and they passed on; and down to their carriage, which had been waiting for them in the road below.

What Marie’s answer was, or by what name Thurnall was about to address her, Stangrave did not hear:  but he had heard quite enough.

He rose quietly after a while, and followed them.

He was a dupe, an ass!  The dupe of those bad women, and of his ancient enemy!  It was maddening!  Yet, how could Sabina be in fault?  She had not known Marie till he himself had introduced her; and he could not believe her capable of such baseness.  The crime must lie between the other two.  Yet—­

However that might be mattered little to him now.  He would return, order his carriage once more, and depart, shaking off the dust of his feet against them!  “Pah!  There were other women in the world; and women, too, who would not demand of him to become a hero.”

He reached the Kurhaus, and went in; but not into the public room, for fear of meeting people whom he had no heart to face.

He was in the passage, in the act of settling his account with the waiter, when Thurnall came hastily out, and ran against him.

Stangrave stood by the passage lamp, so that he saw Tom’s face at once.

Tom drew back; begged a thousand pardons; and saw Stangrave’s face in turn.

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds.  Stangrave longed to say, “You intend to shoot me?  Then try at once;” but he was ashamed, of course, to make use of words which he had so accidentally overheard.

Tom looked carefully at Stangrave, to divine his temper from his countenance.  It was quite angry enough to give Tom excuse for saying to himself—­

“The fellow is mad at being caught at last.  Very well.”