‘I have had a long journey.’

’Then let us get into the house.  Why did you come alone and unattended like this?’

‘It was my humour.’

After a moment’s silence, during which they moved on, she said, ’I have thought of something which I hardly like to suggest to you.  He said that if I failed to come to-night he would wait again to-morrow night.  Now, shall we to-morrow night go to the hill together—­just to see if he is there; and if he is, read him a lesson on his foolishness in nourishing this old passion, and sending for me so oddly, instead of coming to the house?’

‘Why should we see if he’s there?’ said her husband moodily.

’Because I think we ought to do something in it.  Poor Fred!  He would listen to you if you reasoned with him, and set our positions in their true light before him.  It would be no more than Christian kindness to a man who unquestionably is very miserable from some cause or other.  His head seems quite turned.’

By this time they had reached the door, rung the bell, and waited.  All the house seemed to be asleep; but soon a man came to them, the horse was taken away, and the Duke and Duchess went in.

THIRD NIGHT

There was no help for it.  Bill Mills was obliged to stay on duty, in the old shepherd’s absence, this evening as before, or give up his post and living.  He thought as bravely as he could of what lay behind the Devil’s Door, but with no great success, and was therefore in a measure relieved, even if awe-stricken, when he saw the forms of the Duke and Duchess strolling across the frosted greensward.  The Duchess was a few yards in front of her husband and tripped on lightly.

‘I tell you he has not thought it worth while to come again!’ the Duke insisted, as he stood still, reluctant to walk further.

’He is more likely to come and wait all night; and it would be harsh treatment to let him do it a second time.’

‘He is not here; so turn and come home.’

’He seems not to be here, certainly; I wonder if anything has happened to him.  If it has, I shall never forgive myself!’

The Duke, uneasily, ‘O, no.  He has some other engagement.’

‘That is very unlikely.’

‘Or perhaps he has found the distance too far.’

‘Nor is that probable.’

‘Then he may have thought better of it.’

’Yes, he may have thought better of it; if, indeed, he is not here all the time—­somewhere in the hollow behind the Devil’s Door.  Let us go and see; it will serve him right to surprise him.’

‘O, he’s not there.’

‘He may be lying very quiet because of you,’ she said archly.

‘O, no—­not because of me!’

’Come, then.  I declare, dearest, you lag like an unwilling schoolboy to-night, and there’s no responsiveness in you!  You are jealous of that poor lad, and it is quite absurd of you.’