"First, I want to see that Jacky is all right," Cicely said. She led the way to her own room. Jack was asleep, his dimpled arms thrown out on the pillow. Cicely bent over him for a moment. Then she looked at Eve. "You won't ever be troubled by this sort of thing, will you? _You'll_ never have a child!" She laughed, and, taking the lamp, turned towards the door. "This was Ferdie's dressing-room; don't you see him over there by the window?" Eve shrank. "Now he has gone. But we shall hear him following us along the corridor presently, and across the ballroom. Then, in the thicket, he will come and look at us;--do you remember his eyes, and the corners of his mouth,--how they were drawn down?" And the corners of her own mouth took the same grimace. "I cannot go with you," said Eve, stopping. "You will do what I wish you to," answered Cicely;--"one generally does when one has injured a person as you have injured me. For I loved Ferdie, you know; I really had the folly to love him." (She said this insolently.) Turning to Eve, with the same insolent smile, "At last you know what love is, don't you?" she added. "Has it brought you much happiness?" Eve made no answer, she followed humbly; together they went through the labyrinth of small rooms at the end of the corridor and entered the ballroom. Its empty space was dark, a glimmering gray alone marking the unshuttered windows. The circle of light from their lamp made the blackness still blacker. "Do you remember when I put on that ball-dress of my grandmother's, and came jumping along here?" said Cicely. "How strange it is!--I think I was _intended_ to be happy." After a moment she went on: "Now we must begin to listen; he will come in behind us, we shall hear his step. _You_ ought to hear it all your life!" she added. They reached the window at last; it had seemed to Eve an endless transit. Cicely drew back the bolt, threw up the sash, and, with the aid of a chair, stepped out. "Wait here," she said, when Eve had joined her outside; "then, when I have reached the thicket, draw the window down, just as he did; I want to hear the sound." She went quickly towards the thicket, carrying her lamp. Eve was left alone on the veranda. After a few minutes Eve tried to draw down the sash. It resisted, and she was obliged to use all her strength. A shiver came over her as she lifted her arms to try a second time, she almost expected to see a hand come stealing over her shoulder (or under it), and perform the task for her; and the hand would be--Ferdie's. She hurried after Cicely. Cicely came out from the thicket. "Now take the lamp and walk down the road a little way; I wish to see the gleam moving over the bushes,--don't you remember?" Eve obeyed. It seemed to her as if she should never be free from this island and its terror; as if she should spend the rest of her life here following Cicely, living over again their dreadful flight.