Her mind was full of Murtagh Skeel, her heart of Garry Barres, as she stood there in that blossoming solitude, listening to the robin and the fountain, while her eyes wandered across flower-bed, pool, and clipped greensward, and beyond the garden wall to the hill where three pines stood silver-green against the sky.

Little by little the thought of Murtagh Skeel faded from her mind; fuller and fuller grew her heart with confused emotions new to her--emotions too perplexing, too deep, too powerful, perhaps, for her to understand--or to know how to resist or to endure. For the first vague sweetness of her thoughts had grown keen to the verge of pain--an exquisite spiritual tension which hurt her, bewildered her with the deep emotions it stirred.

To love, had been a phrase to her; a lover, a name. For beyond that childish, pa.s.sionate adoration which Barres had evoked in her, and which to her meant friendship, nothing more subtly mature, more vital, had threatened her unawakened adolescence with any clearer comprehension of him or any deeper apprehension of herself.

And even now it was not knowledge that pierced her, lighting little confusing flashes in her mind and heart. For her heart was still a child's heart; and her mind, stimulated and rapidly developing under the warm and magic kindness of this man who had become her only friend, had not thought of him in any other way.... Until to-day.

What had happened in her mind, in her heart, she had not a.n.a.lysed--probably was afraid to, there at the piano in the music-room. And later, in her bedroom, when she had summoned up innocent courage sufficient for self-a.n.a.lysis, she didn't know how to question herself--did not realise exactly what had happened to her, and never even thought of including him in the enchanted cataclysm which had befallen her mind and heart and soul.

Thessalie and Westmore appeared on the lawn by the pool. Behind the woods the sky was tinted with pale orange.

It may have been the psychic quality of the Celt in Dulcie--a pale glimmer of clairvoyance--some momentary and vague premonition wirelessed through the evening stillness which set her sensitive body vibrating; for she turned abruptly and gazed northward across the woods and hills--remained motionless, her grey eyes fixed on the far horizon, all silvery with the hidden glimmer of unlighted stars.

Then she slowly said aloud to herself:

"He will not come. He will never come again--this man who loved my mother."

Barres approached across the gra.s.s, looking for her. She went forward through the arbour to meet him.

"Hasn't he come?" he asked.

"He is not coming, Garry."

"Why? Have you heard anything?"

She shook her head:

"No. But he isn't coming."

"Probably he'll explain this evening at the Gerhardts'."

"I shall never see him again," she said absently.

He turned and gave her a searching look. Her gaze was remote, her face a little pale.

They walked back to the house together in silence.

A servant met them in the hall with a note on a tray. It was for Barres; Dulcie pa.s.sed on with a pale little smile of dismissal; Barres opened the note:

"The pot has boiled over, mon ami. Something has scared Skeel. He gave us the slip very cleverly, leaving Gerhardt's house before sunrise and motoring north at crazy speed. Where he will strike the railway I have no means of knowing. Your Government's people are trying to cover Lake Erie and Lake Ontario. On the Canada side the authorities have been notified and are alert I hope.

"Gerhardt's country house is a nest of mischief hatchers. One in particular is under surveillance and will be arrested. His name is Tauscher.

"Because, mon ami, it has just been discovered that there are _two_ plots to blow up the Welland Ca.n.a.l! One is Skeel's. The other is Tauscher's. It is a purely German plot. They don't intend to blow themselves up these Huns. Oh no! They expect to get away.

"Evidently Bernstorff puts no faith in Skeel's mad plan. So, in case it doesn't pan out, here is Tauscher with another plan, made in Germany, and very, very thorough. Isn't it characteristic? Here is the report I received this morning:

"'Captain Franz von Papen, Military Attache on the amba.s.sadorial staff of Count von Bernstorff, and Captain Hans Tauscher, who, besides being the Krupp agent in America, is also, by appointment of the German War Office, von Papen's chief military a.s.sistant in the United States, have plotted the destruction of the Welland Ca.n.a.l in Canada.

"'Captain Hans Tauscher will be arrested and indicted for violation of Section 13 of the United States Criminal Code, for setting on foot a military enterprise against Canada during the neutrality of the United States.

"'Tauscher is a German reserve officer and is subject to the orders of Captain Franz von Papen, Military Attache of Count von Bernstorff. His indictment will be brought about by reason of an attempt to blow up parts of the Welland Ca.n.a.l, the waterway connecting Lakes Erie and Ontario. A small party of Germans, under command of one von der Goltz, have started from New York for the purpose of committing this act of sabotage, and, incidentally, of a.s.sa.s.sination of all men, women and children who might be involved in the explosion at the point to be selected by the plotters.

"'Tauscher bought and furnished to this crowd of a.s.sa.s.sins the dynamite which was to be used for the purpose. The fact that Tauscher had bought the dynamite has become known to the United States authorities and he will be called upon to make an explanation.

"'Captain Tauscher is said to be an agreeable companion, but he had the ordinary predilection of a German officer for a.s.sa.s.sinating women and children.'

"Now, then, mon ami, this is the report. I expect that United States Secret Service men will arrest Tauscher to-night. Perhaps Gerhardt, also, will be arrested.

"At any rate, at the dance to-night you need not look for Skeel.

But may I suggest that you and Mr. Westmore keep your eyes on Mademoiselle Dunois. Because, at the railway station to-day, the German agents, Franz Lehr and Max Freund, were recognised by my men, disguised as liveried chauffeurs, but in whose service we have not yet been able to discover.

"Therefore, it might be well for you and Mr. Westmore to remain near Mademoiselle Dunois during the evening.

"Au revoir! I shall see you at the dance.

"RENOUX."

XXVII

THE MOONLIT WAY

Barres whistled and sang alternately as he tied his evening tie before his looking gla.s.s.

"_And I care not, I, Who ever she be I could not love her more!_"

he chanted gaily, examining the effect and b.u.t.toning his white waistcoat.

Westmore, loitering near and waiting for him, referred again, indignantly, to Renoux's report concerning the presence of Freund and Lehr at the Northbrook railway station.

"If I catch them hanging around Thessa," he said, "I'll certainly beat them up, Garry.

"Deal with anything of that sort directly; that's always the best way.

No use arguing with a Hun. When he misbehaves, beat him up. It's the only thing he understands."

"Well, it's all right for us to do it now, as long as the French Government knows where Thessa is," remarked Barres, drawing a white clove-carnation through his b.u.t.tonhole. "But what do you think of that dirty swine, Tauscher, planning wholesale murder like that? Isn't it the fine flower of Prussianism? There's the real and porcine boche for you, sombre, savage, stupidly ferocious, swinishly persistent, but never quite cunning enough, never sufficiently subtle in planning his filthy and murderous holocausts."

Westmore nodded:

"Quite right. The _Lusitania_ and Belgium cost the Hun the respect of civilisation, and are driving the civilised world into a common understanding. We'll go in before long; don't worry."

They descended the stairs together just as dinner was announced.

Mrs. Barres said laughingly to her son: