With a chill in her heart—for the harshness of her husband’s voice was new to her—she crept back to bed and lay there trembling, too frightened to cry, and listened to every sound. There was a long pause of silence, and then the sound of some iron implement striking muffled blows! Then there came a clang of a heavy stone falling, followed by a muffled curse. Then a dragging sound, and then more noise of stone on stone. She lay all the while in an agony of fear, and her heart beat dreadfully. She heard a curious sort of scraping sound; and then there was silence. Presently the door opened gently, and Geoffrey appeared. His wife pretended to be asleep; but through her eyelashes she saw him wash from his hands something white that looked like lime. In the morning he made no allusion to the previous night, and she was afraid to ask any question. From that day there seemed some shadow over Geoffrey Brent. He neither ate nor slept as he had been accustomed, and his former habit of turning suddenly as though someone were speaking from behind him revived. The old hall seemed to have some kind of fascination for him. He used to go there many times in the day, but grew impatient if anyone, even his wife, entered it. When the builder’s foreman came to inquire about continuing his work Geoffrey was out driving; the man went into the hall, and when Geoffrey returned the servant told him of his arrival and where he was. With a frightful oath he pushed the servant aside and hurried up to the old hall. The workman met him almost at the door; and as Geoffrey burst into the room he ran against him. The man apologised: “Beg pardon, sir, but I was just going out to make some enquiries. I directed twelve sacks of lime to be sent here, but I see there are only ten.” “Damn the ten sacks and the twelve too!” was the ungracious and incomprehensible rejoinder. The workman looked surprised, and tried to turn the conversation. “I see, sir, there is a little matter which our people must have done; but the governor will of course see it set right at his own cost.” “What do you mean?” “That “ere “arth-stone, sir: Some idiot must have put a scaffold pole on it and cracked it right down the middle, and it’s thick enough you’d think to stand hanythink.” Geoffrey was silent for quite a minute, and then said in a constrained voice and with much gentler manner: “Tell your people that I am not going on with the work in the hall at present. I want to leave it as it is for a while longer.” “All right sir. I’ll send up a few of our chaps to take away these poles and lime bags and tidy the place up a bit.” “No! No!” said Geoffrey, “leave them where they are. I shall send and tell you when you are to get on with the work.” So the foreman went away, and his comment to his master was: “I’d send in the bill, sir, for the work already done. “Pears to me that money’s a little shaky in that quarter.”