He came out of the gate and wandered slowly on. I was too far away to see his face clearly in the evening light, but could see he moved with the old, careless swing. Ten years had scarcely altered his appearance. He was still the elegant, handsome Wilfred. He walked towards the vicarage, and took the coast path. So much the better--it was the most lonely path in the countryside. It suited my purpose exactly. I followed silently. No sound of footsteps could be heard, for the grass was soft and spongy; the grass on which we had often played together as boys. He wandered along aimlessly as though he had come out to be alone. He did not look back; but every now and then stopped and gazed at the "Devil's Tooth," the five great prongs of which could be clearly seen in the evening light. Presently I thought we had gone far enough for my purpose, and so I went up to him. "I desire to speak to you," I said. He turned round sharply, and looked straight at me. "Who are you?" he cried. "Look and see," I said. The moon had risen, the sky was clear, and my features could be plainly seen. He looked at me steadily with his sharp brilliant eyes, and spoke again. "I do not know you." "I think you do," I said. "You and I have often played on yonder headland, often wrestled there; look again." Then he gave a great start, and trembled. "My God, it is Roger!" he cried. "Ah, you remember at last, do you? Yes, it is Roger." He seemed to detect something fearful in my voice, for he asked harshly: "Where do you come from, and why are you here?" "I am come from silence, and from mystery, as far as you are concerned," I replied, "and I am here in the name of righteousness and justice." Something in my answer seemed to startle him. "Alive?" he said, with a gasp. "Yes, alive," I said. "When I left I told you to be careful, or Roger might come to life again. I told you to be kind to the one for whom I sacrificed my all, or the dead would arise. Let your own memory answer the question whether there is cause for me to come back." He caught my meaning, and began to stammer. "But, Roger, I--I have done nothing, and----" "Stop," I cried, "I know all. You know that I was deceived into believing that Ruth loved you, and that I was the hindrance to her happiness. And I know now that it was a lie concocted by my mother and you. I know how you have imposed upon and deceived her. I know that you have tried to frighten her into marrying you, and I know, too, that by keeping her to a promise that her soul abhorred, you have murdered her! I know all this, and now I have come back for revenge." "What will you do?" "I do not know as yet. First of all confess to me this; did not you and my mother deceive both Ruth and me to get me away, so that you might have what was mine?" "You said you knew, why do you ask?" "I wish to hear what you say; answer me!"