Arthur would not leave the little village of Venning.  Neither Susie nor the doctor could get him to make any decision.  None of them spoke of the night which they had spent in the woods of Skene; but it coloured all their thoughts, and they were not free for a single moment from the ghastly memory of it.  They seemed still to hear the sound of that passionate weeping.  Arthur was moody.  When he was with them, he spoke little; he opposed a stubborn resistance to their efforts at diverting his mind.  He spent long hours by himself, in the country, and they had no idea what he did.  Susie was terribly anxious.  He had lost his balance so completely that she was prepared for any rashness.  She divined that his hatred of Haddo was no longer within the bounds of reason.  The desire for vengeance filled him entirely, so that he was capable of any violence.

Several days went by.

At last, in concert with Dr Porhoet, she determined to make one more attempt.  It was late at night, and they sat with open windows in the sitting-room of the inn.  There was a singular oppressiveness in the air which suggested that a thunderstorm was at hand.  Susie prayed for it; for she ascribed to the peculiar heat of the last few days much of Arthur’s sullen irritability.

‘Arthur, you must tell us what you are going to do,’ she said.  ’It is useless to stay here.  We are all so ill and nervous that we cannot consider anything rationally.  We want you to come away with us tomorrow.’

‘You can go if you choose,’ he said.  ’I shall remain till that man is dead.’

’It is madness to talk like that.  You can do nothing.  You are only making yourself worse by staying here.’

‘I have quite made up my mind.’

‘The law can offer you no help, and what else can you do?’

She asked the question, meaning if possible to get from him some hint of his intentions; but the grimness of his answer, though it only confirmed her vague suspicions, startled her.

‘If I can do nothing else, I shall shoot him like a dog.’

She could think of nothing to say, and for a while they remained in silence.  Then he got up.

‘I think I should prefer it if you went,’ he said.  ’You can only hamper me.’

‘I shall stay here as long as you do.’

‘Why?’

’Because if you do anything, I shall be compromised.  I may be arrested.  I think the fear of that may restrain you.’

He looked at her steadily.  She met his eyes with a calmness which showed that she meant exactly what she said, and he turned uneasily away.  A silence even greater than before fell upon them.  They did not move.  It was so still in the room that it might have been empty.  The breathlessness of the air increased, so that it was horribly oppressive.  Suddenly there was a loud rattle of thunder, and a flash of lightning tore across the heavy clouds.  Susie thanked Heaven for the storm which would give