Lastly, Richard Linnell and Mellersh saw Claire enter the old nobleman's handsome chariot, and a curious grey look came over the younger man's countenance like a shadow, as he stood watching the departure, motionless till the carriage had disappeared, when Mellersh took him by the arm-- "Come, Dick," he whispered, "be a man." Linnell turned upon him fiercely. "I do try," he cried, "but at every turn there is something to tempt me with fresh doubts." Volume Three, Chapter XXII. NATURE'S TEMPTATION. Claire Denville sat back in her chair utterly exhausted, and feeling as if her brain was giving way. The news from the prison was as hopeless as ever. Fred lay lingering at the barrack infirmary; and though May was better she was querulous, and in that terribly weak state when life seems to be a burden and thought a weariness and care. She was asleep now, and Claire had just risen softly so as not to awaken her, and make her resume her complaints and questions as to how soon her father would come back and forgive her, and when her husband would return and take her home, for she was weary of lying there. Unreasoning in her weakness, she had that afternoon been bitterly reproaching Claire for not fetching her child, that she might nurse and play with it--at a time when she could hardly hold up her arm--and when she had been firmly but kindly refused she had burst into a torrent of feeble, querulous reproaches, which had been maddening to Claire in her excited, overstrained state. The door opened, and Mrs Barclay's beaming countenance appeared, and she stood there beckoning with her fat finger. "Let's stand outside and talk," she whispered. "That's right: close the door. Now then, my dear, I'll go in and sit with your sister there, for you're getting overdone; and I tell you what, it's a fine soft evening, you put on your bonnet and shawl and go and have a walk. I don't like your going alone, but just take one sharp walk as far as the pier and back, two or three times. It'll do you good." "Have you any news, Mrs Barclay?" said Claire, ignoring the wish expressed. "Not yet, my dear, but everybody's working for you. Now, do go." Claire hesitated, and then in obedience to the reiterated wish she mechanically did as she was bid, and went out into the cool soft night, the beating of the waves sounding loudly on the shore, while as they broke a glow as of fire ran along their crests, flashing and sparkling with soft radiance along the shore. But Claire saw nothing, heard nothing--neither the figure that came quickly after her as she left the house, nor the sound of steps. For all was one weary confused trouble in her brain, and everything seemed forced and unnatural, as if it were the mingling of some dream.