He could not explain it himself, and endeavoured to reason himself out of it. There was the blue sky above him, the blue sea in front, the beautiful gardens with their throngs of happy pleasure-seekers around. Above all, there was that sweet face turned upon him with questioning concern. Why could he not raise himself to so joyful an environment? He made effort after effort, but they were not convincing enough to deceive the quick instinct of a loving woman. “What is it, Tom?” she asked anxiously. “I can see that something is clouding you. Do tell me if I can help you in any way.” He laughed in shame-faced fashion. “It is such a sin to spoil our little outing,” he said. “I could kick myself round these gardens when I think of it. Don’t worry, my darling, for I know the cloud will roll off. I suppose I am a creature of nerves, though I should have got past that by now. The Flying Service is supposed either to break you or to warrant you for life.” “It is nothing definite, then?” “No, it is nothing definite. That’s the worst of it. You could fight it more easily if it was. It’s just a dead, heavy depression here in my chest and across my forehead. But do forgive me, dear girl! What a brute I am to shadow you like this.” “But I love to share even the smallest trouble.” “Well, it’s gone--vamosed--vanished. We will talk about it no more.” She gave him a swift, penetrating glance. “No, no, Tom; your brow shows, as well as feels. Tell me, dear, have you often felt like this? You really look very ill. Sit here, dear, in the shade and tell me of it.” They sat together in the shadow of the great latticed Tower which reared itself six hundred feet high beside them. “I have an absurd faculty,” said he; “I don’t know that I have ever mentioned it to any one before. But when imminent danger is threatening me I get these strange forebodings. Of course it is absurd to-day in these peaceful surroundings. It only shows how queerly these things work. But it is the first time that it has deceived me.” “When had you it before?” “When I was a lad it seized me one morning. I was nearly drowned that afternoon. I had it when the burglar came to Morton Hall and I got a bullet through my coat. Then twice in the war when I was overmatched and escaped by a miracle, I had this strange feeling before ever I climbed into my machine. Then it lifts quite suddenly, like a mist in the sunshine. Why, it is lifting now. Look at me! Can’t you see that it is so?” She could indeed. He had turned in a minute from a haggard man to a laughing boy. She found herself laughing in sympathy. A rush of high spirits and energy had swept away his strange foreboding and filled his whole soul with the vivid, dancing joy of youth.