His intention was to take the train at Portchester, and that he might reach that place without inconvenient encounters, he decided to proceed by a short cut through the fields.  This led him north along the ridge that overlooks the road running around the base of the hill.  He did not think of this road, however, or of anything, in fact, but the necessity of taking the very earliest train out of Portchester.  As this left at 3.30 A.M., he realised that he must hasten in order to reach it.  But he was not destined to take it or any other train out of Portchester that night, for when he reached the fence dividing Mr. Sutherland’s grounds from those of his adjoining neighbour, he saw, drawn up in the moonlight just at the point where he had intended to leap the fence, the form of a woman with one hand held out to stop him.

It was Amabel.

Confounded by this check and filled with an anger that was nigh to dangerous, he fell back and then immediately sprang forward.

“What are you doing here?” he cried.  “Don’t you know that it is eleven o’clock and that my father requires the house to be closed at that hour?”

“And you?” was her sole retort; “what are you doing here?  Are you searching for flowers in the woods, and is that valise you carry the receptacle in which you hope to put your botanical specimens?”

With a savage gesture he dropped the valise and took her fiercely by the shoulders.

“Where have you hidden my money?” he hissed.  “Tell me, or—–­”

“Or what?” she asked, smiling into his face in a way that made him lose his grip.

“Or—­or I cannot answer for myself,” he proceeded, stammering.  “Do you. think I can endure everything from you because you are a woman?  No; I will have those bills, every one of them, or show myself your master.  Where are they, you incarnate fiend?”

It was an unwise word to use, but she did not seem to heed it.

“Ah,” she said softly, and with a lingering accent, as if his grasp of her had been a caress to which she was not entirely averse.  “I did not think you would discover its loss so soon.  When did you go to the woods, Frederick?  And was Miss Halliday with you?”

He had a disposition to strike her, but controlled himself.  Blows would not avail against the softness of this suave, yet merciless, being.  Only a will as strong as her own could hope to cope with this smiling fury; and this he was determined to show, though, alas! he had everything to lose in a struggle that robbed her of nothing but a hope which was but a baseless fabric at best; for he was more than ever determined never to marry her.

“A man does not need to wait long to miss his own,” said he.  “And if you have taken this money, which, you do not deny, you have shown yourself very short-sighted, for danger lies closer to the person holding this money than to the one you vilify by your threats.  This you will find, Amabel, when you come to make use of the weapon with which you have thought to arm yourself.”