"You think I do?"

"I know you do, for otherwise you would have accepted it."

"I have accepted it, and you're blind and foolish not to have seen it at once."

Isbel's eyes leapt to his face with a flash. "You accept my full love?"

"Yes, your full love," said Judge, setting his jaw hard. "There's no other kind worth the price we're paying. Be it so!…Bit I accept it in deep humility, for the gift is far too rich, and I have done nothing to deserve it…I shall dedicate the rest of my life to your service."

She approached him unsteadily.

"You must know that such a gift can't be paid for by service. There can only be one return for passion, and that's passion. If you haven't that to give, I want nothing."

"That you shall have in full measure," replied Judge.

He moved forward to embrace her.

At the same moment, quite suddenly, the sun went in, the wind ceased, and every outside sound stopped, as if cut off by a screen. The brightness of the room changed to twilight, while the air became perceptibly colder, and, at the same time stale-smelling. Judge's upraised arm fell slowly to his side, as he mechanically shrank back. Both turned their heads inquiringly towards the window. Then Isbel walked over to it, almost with reluctance, to look out.

"Henry, come here quickly!…"

He was already beside her. The landscape they were looking at was no longer the same. Immediately beneath them were the familiar grounds of Runhill Court; the chalk hill, diminished in height, had become the sloping lawn, with its continuation of the field they had traversed on the day of the picnic; in the background were other fields innumerable, with roads, lanes, and cottages. The unbroken forest of fresh green trees was transformed into scattered tracts of woodland, the prevailing colour of whose leaves was russet. The sun had disappeared; the country was wrapped in a misty dusk. The musician was nowhere to be discovered.

They gazed at each other in consternation, during which time their excitement rapidly subsided.

"Are we dreaming now, or were we dreaming before?" asked Isbel earnestly, laying her hand on his arm.

"We can't doubt this, at all events."

"Wasn't that real, then? Have we been the fools of our senses?"

"I fear it looks extremely like it."

"What, has it all been false?"

Judge shook his head grimly, but did not answer at once…"Anyway, it has happened in time. There's no harm done but what we can cover up and forget. We must be thankful for small mercies."

She turned fiery-red. "Has it really come to that?"

"At least, as you, too, have been involved, you will acquit me of deliberate wrong-doing. I fear it's hopeless trying to reconstruct our state of mind, or to understand what has taken place. Some unpleasant agency has been at work."

They went back into the room.

"So you don't love me?" demanded Isbel quietly.

"Yes, I love you."

"You know that, if our senses are restored, my ring is not restored?"

"Unfortunately, I know it only too well."

"So it means that your old generosity has come back?"

They stood for a long time, looking away from each other. Then, with death in her heart, Isbel started to put on her glove.

"We had better go downstairs again."

He bowed with stern gravity, and at once moved to the door, which he held open to allow her to pass out. She walked straight across to the stairs, without once turning her head to see if he were following.

The hall, when she reached it, was in dusk. Her watch told her it that it was nearing five o'clock. She looked dully around her, remembering nothing of what had occurred to her during the past hour and a half, but somehow, confusedly wondering why Judge had failed to descend that staircase with her-though, as a matter of fact, she did not even know whether he had been up there.

Chapter XVII IN THE TWILIGHT

The staircase had vanished, the house wsa in silence, evening was closing in, and her companions were absent. Isbel's heart throbbed heavily, she felt sick and weak, yet she thought she ought to go upstairs to look for them. She knew that Judge would not have departed without her. She considered that it would be best if she were to go straight upstairs to the East Room.

The prospect of visiting that remote part of the house so late in the day did not inspire her with any enthusiasm, but anything was preferable to waiting about in that awful hall. It was most singular why they should be so long. She made her way upstairs slowly, stopping at every sixth step to listen for sounds; but all was quiet as a tomb. As she groped her passage along the nightlike corridor at the top of the house, it occurred to her for the first time that she had never yet seen the East Room, though all her acquaintances seemed to have done so. She smiled rather contemptuously. Well, it would complete her experience of the place!

The door stood wide open. It was dim twilight within, and the apartment did not strike her as very noteworthy. It was small and square, with a single window on the far side; very poorly furnished. But as she stood at the door, looking in, her eyes immediately fell upon something which completely took away all her interest in the room itself. Mrs. Richborough was lying extended on the floor, with Judge kneeling beside her!

She rushed forward quickly. "Whatever's the matter, Mr. Judge? Is she ill?"

He looked up from bathing her forehead and lips with the contents of a pocket-flask.

"It's a swoon, and rather a bad one. I couldn't leave her, to come down to you."

"How did it happen?"

"I don't know. She was lying like this when I came down."

Isbel turned hastily from the unconscious woman to look at Judge. "Then you have been up?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Yes; but I remember nothing-nor, of course, you, either?"

"Nothing." He went on dabbing Mrs. Richborough's forehead.

"Is that doing her any good? Hadn't we better try and get her downstairs?"

"Her pulse is stronger, and I think she is coming round. It's hopeless to think of a doctor in these parts. If we can get her in the car, we'll soon run her down to Worthing. She must have had a fright of some sort."

"But how came she to find her way up here?"

"I suppose she looked everywhere for me…I've been staring at something on the floor over there for some while, but haven't been able to get up to investigate. It looks like a ring, or a brooch. She may have dropped it in falling."

Isbel, following the direction of his finger, detected the article, and picked it up. It proved to be a lady's diamond ring.

"It is a ring-and a rather nice one. It's very much like mine."

As she spoke the words, she instinctively felt for her engagement ring beneath her glove…It was not there!…She whipped off the glove, in dismay. Her third finger was ringless.

The recovered ring fitted it perfectly.

"It is mine!" she went on, with a desperate effort to keep calm, but unable to keep a slight break out of her voice.

"What! You surely must be mistaken."

"It's my engagement ring and ought to have been on my finger."

They stared at each other.

"You are sure?"

"Yes, I am quite sure."

"Then what is it doing her, Miss Loment? I can't understand it. You haven't been in this room before?"

"I have never been in this room before in my life. And I wore this ring at lunch to-day."

She retained it on her finger and replaced her glove over it. At the same time, Mrs. Richborough's face and neck stirred uneasily, and her eyelids flickered. Judge remained on his knees.

"How are we to understand it, do you suppose?" demanded Isbel, after a long pause, in the increasing darkness.