And then all at once it was late, and time for him to go; but he did not care to stir--all was truly calm, there was such a sweet repose about the place that life had suddenly grown dreamy, and he lay back in his chair listening to the Major, and still watching those hands that were as beautiful as--more beautiful than--Janet's. Her face came into his mind with that, like a painful jarring discord in the midst of some soft, dreamy symphony, and he started up. "Eh? What is the matter?" cried the Major suddenly. "It is late, sir. I am keeping you up far beyond your usual time, I am sure." "Yes, and thank you for doing so," said the Major. "It is a pleasant change. Early to bed is good, but not too early. Why, you do not suppose, Mr Reed, that we are going to let you tramp across the bleak mountain-side to-night, and have inquiries made for you in the morning, because you have not gone to the mine." "But really, Major Gurdon," protested Reed. "My dear sir, after all these years in this solitude, I know the place by heart, and there are dozens of spots--old shafts and the like--where a man may lose his life." "But indeed--" "You are a new-comer. Yes, my dear sir, and we must take care of you. See how dark it is. Look, Dinah, my child. Go and see what the night is like." Dinah trembled as she went to the open French window, stepped into the verandah, and came back looking ghastly, just as the dog began to bark fiercely from somewhere at the back. "Poachers after the grouse," said the Major decisively. "I hope, Mr Reed, you will use your influence to keep your men from trespassing and going after the game--and my trout." "Of course, sir, but--" "Well, Dinah?" said the Major, without noticing her agitated face. "It is very dark," she said huskily. "Exactly! Too dark for you to go, my dear sir. Stay! We will have an early breakfast, and you can walk across to the mine. I will not have my peace of mind destroyed by being summoned to sit on a jury at an inquest upon my late guest." There was a mingling of mirth and seriousness in the Major's words, and Reed hesitated. "Well, sir," he said, involuntarily glancing across at Dinah, and meeting her troubled gaze. "I insist," cried the Major. "What do you say, my dear?" Dinah started, and her voice sounded strange as she said hurriedly-- "It would be very imprudent of Mr Reed to go back--on so dark a walk." "Exactly! There, my dear sir, you are a prisoner for to-night." "Mr Reed will excuse me now," said Dinah quietly. "Good-night," and she held out her hand. "Good-night," he replied, with a grave sympathy in his tone; and he stood gazing at the door through which she had passed with the touch of her cold, moist, trembling hand still lingering in his, till the Major spoke again, after walking to the window, and shouting to the dog to lie down.