Hench leaned idling against the stile enjoying the beauty of the evening and the picturesque character of the landscape. He could not see very far, as the place was muffled with hawthorn hedges and tall trees, but there was a quiet domestic loveliness about the prospect which soothed his tormented soul. Suddenly his eye was caught by a moving figure in the porch of the church, which was under the west window. It was that of a slender girl, not very tall, but singularly graceful. As she came down the path towards the lychgate, he saw that she had a beautiful face, aristocratic in its looks and rather pensive in its expression. Arrayed in white, and with a white sunshade, she stepped daintily through the gate and out on to the dusty road, turning her face towards the village, whither she was evidently going. But scarcely had she taken three steps when a motor-car, without warning, swept swiftly round the dangerous corner. The girl was directly in his path, and although Hench shouted at once, she did not step aside. In fact she seemed to be puzzled by his cry, until the noise of the approaching machine struck her ear. Then she wheeled suddenly and stood where she was, paralysed with fright. Hench saw that in a second she would be cut down and be crushed under those cruel wheels, so plunged suddenly forward and dashed across the roadway to thrust her out of the way. So impetuous was his onset that she was tumbled back into the hedge girdling the churchyard, and Hench himself fell sprawling in the dust. With a whirr, the motor passed and he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. The next moment the car was buzzing at top-speed through the village, its driver evidently afraid of prosecution for neglecting to sound his horn. Meanwhile the girl gathered herself up out of the hedge, and Owain lay still on the highway. The whole event lasted less than a minute--the girl being saved, the man being hurt in the twinkling of an eye. And in the same twinkling of an eye the car had vanished into the unknown. "Oh!" The young lady hurried towards her preserver. "Are you hurt?" "My ankle," gasped Hench, sitting up with an effort; "it's giving me a warm time--a wheel went over it, I think--probably it is broken!" and he winced with the pain. "You have saved my life!" "Oh, that's all right," replied the young man, speaking with difficulty, for the suffering was great. "You can repay me by helping me home, or by getting assistance. I can't walk by myself." "Give me your hand," said the girl quickly, quite cool and mistress of herself. "There! Can you get on to your feet?" "On to one foot, anyhow," gasped Hench, smiling to reassure her, and managed to stand upright. "But my ankle is not so very bad. I don't think it is broken--only crushed." "That's bad enough. Lean on me. Where do you live?" "At Mrs. Bell's." "That's not far away. Come. What a hero you are to save me. My name is Evans." "Evans!" repeated Owain, and then knew that he had at last met his cousin.