“I dunno. She’s never been the same since--since the painter chap went missing. I’m afeerd he turned the gal’s head.” “He’ll turn no more heads,” muttered Monk under his breath; then added aloud and with decision, “There must be an end to this. She must be married to me at once.” “Do you mean it, master? When you spoke on it fust I thought you was joking.” “Then you were a fool for your pains. She’s old enough, and bold enough, and vixenish enough; but I’ll tame her. I tell you there must be no more delay. My mind’s made up, and I’ll wait no longer.” Sinking their voices they continued to talk together for some time. Now Matt was crouching close to the threshold, and had heard every word of the above conversation, and much that followed it. When Monk walked away and disappeared, leaving William Jones ruminant at the broken gate, she suddenly reappeared. Curiously enough all her excitement had departed. Instead of weeping or protesting, she looked at William Jones--and laughed. Monk had left his horse at the coastguard station. Remounting, he rode rapidly away through the sand-hills in the direction of the lake. As he approached the spot of the old encampment, he saw that the caravan had gone. He rode on thoughtfully till he gained the highway, when he put his horse into a rapid trot. Just before he gained the gate and avenue near to which he had first encountered Brinkley, he saw the caravan before him on the dusty road. He hesitated for a moment; then hurried rapidly forward, and, arriving close to the vehicle, saw the Irishman’s head looking round at him from the driver’s seat. He beckoned, and Tim pulled up. “Has your master returned? I am informed that he has been missing for some days.” Tim shook his head very dolefully. “No, sor I sorra sight have I seen of him for three days and three nights. I’m going back wid the baste and the house, to tell his friends the bad news. Maybe it’s making fun of me he is, and I’ll find him somewhere on the road.” “I hope you will,” said Monk sympathetically. “I think--hum--it is quite possible he has, as you suggest, wandered homeward. Good-day to you.” So saying, Monk turned off by the gate which they had just reached, and rode away up the avenue. Tim looked after him till he disappeared. Then the same curious change came over him which had come over Matt after she had been listening to the colloquy between Monk and William Jones. He laughed! CHAPTER XIV.--A BRIDAL PARTY AND A LITTLE SURPRISE. A week passed away. The shadow of the caravan no longer fell on the green meadow by the lake, and the straggling population of Aberglyn, unsuspicious of foul play, had already forgotten both the caravan and the owner.