"Certainly not," I hastened to declare. "Believe me, Miss Wynd, that you have all my sympathy. You are unfortunately unique as one who is married and yet without knowledge either of her husband or his name." "Yes," she sighed, a dark shadow of despair crossing her handsome face. "There is a shadow of evil ever upon me, just as puzzling and mysterious as the chill touch of that unseen influence which at intervals strikes both of us." "And the presence of this man adds to your uneasiness. Is that not so?" She nodded, but no word escaped her. "I noticed when you met and he descended from the trap that he was not your friend." "What caused you to suspect that?" she inquired quickly. "The man's face betrayed his feeling towards you. He is your enemy." "Yes," she answered slowly, as though carefully weighing each word; "he is my enemy--my bitterest enemy." "Why?" "Because I have a firm suspicion that he has discovered the secret of my marriage--that he alone knows who my unknown husband really is." And turning her wonderful eyes to mine, her troubled breast slowly rose and fell. When, oh, when should I succeed in solving the maddening problem and be free to make confession of the truth? CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. SOUGHT OUT. With untiring astuteness I watched every movement of the new-comer, but detected nothing suspicious in his actions. We lunched together, only five of us, the others being away at Dodington, and were a merry party. The man with the small eyes was excellent company, full of witty sayings and droll stories, and was really an acquisition to our party. Yet I noticed that he spoke little with Beryl, as, though some secret understanding existed between them. And when he did address her she answered him vacantly, as though her thoughts were afar off. That night, on the return of the party from the flower-show, his arrival was hailed with delight. At all events he was a very popular person at Atworth. He seemed rejuvenated since we had last met, and appeared fully twenty years younger than on the night when he had tempted me. I had many chats with him. I played him at billiards, and was afterwards his partner at whist before we parted for the night. I did this in order to put him off his guard, if possible, and to induce him to believe that I had not recognised him. I had not yet decided how to act. When at midnight I left my companions, entered my room, and closed the door, that strange, weird influence again made itself felt upon me. My lower limbs became benumbed, my blood seemed frozen in my veins. I stood glancing around the bedroom in fear and wondering. There was nothing supernatural there, and yet this unseen influence was as the finger of Evil. The strange sensation was not of long duration, but gradually faded until I found myself in my normal state. I tested my temperature with my thermometer, and saw that I had just a slight tendency to fever--due, I supposed, to alarm and excitement.