He tramped the beach for miles in the starlight. At last, suddenly awakening to a realization of the distance he had traveled, he turned and walked back again. He endeavored to dismiss the evening’s torture from his mind and to center his thinking upon himself and what his own course should be. The sensible thing was to go abroad at once. He would go. Then, having clenched his teeth upon this determination, he immediately unclenched them.... To go and leave her with her scheming uncle had been bad enough, but to leave her with this other fellow, who was, of course, just one more pawn in the Townsend game, that was the point where his resolution stuck and refused to pass. He came opposite his beach studio and, acting upon a sudden impulse, unlocked the door and entered. He lighted the bracket lamp and sat down in a chair to continue his thinking, and, if possible, reach some decision. It was as hard to reach there as it had been during his walk. Covell--Covell--Covell! For _that_ fellow to marry Esther Townsend! Yet, on the other hand, why not? Handsome, accomplished, fascinating--the son of a millionaire! And backed by the influence of the big mogul of Ostable County! What chance had Elisha Cook’s grandson against that combination? If Esther had ever really loved him--Bob Griffin--then-- But she did not. She had thrown him off like an old glove. Then, in heaven’s name, _why_ was he such a fool as to waste another thought on her? He rose from the chair determined to sail for Europe by the next steamer. He blew out the lamp, locked the door, and started, walking more briskly now, in the general direction of the livery stable. Still thinking and debating, in spite of his brave determination, he had reached a point just beyond the Campton cottage on the lower road when he heard a sound which caused him to awaken from his nightmare. A thick dump of silver-leaf saplings bordered the road at his left and in their black shadow he saw a bulk of shadow still blacker, a shadow which moved. He walked across to investigate. As he came near the shadow assumed outline. A two-seated carriage and a pair of horses. He recognized the outfit at once. The horses were the Townsend span and the carriage the Townsend “two-seater.” He could scarcely believe it. What on earth were they doing there, on the lower road, at this time of night--or morning? The idea that the span might have run away, or wandered off by themselves, was dispelled when, upon examination, he found them attached by a leather hitching strap to the stockiest of the silver-leaf saplings. This, of course, but made the puzzle still harder to answer. Who had brought them there? Varunas alone; or Varunas acting as driver for Foster Townsend? But, if Townsend had come to one of the few houses on that part of the road, where was Varunas, who would, naturally, remain with the horses? And if Varunas had come alone--why? And there was no dwelling within fifty yards of that spot.