As he passed the Willow Pond with a quick step, he caught a glimpse of some figure bending over it, as if it were looking for something in the water, or else about to take a leap in. Remembering the fate of Rachel, and not wishing to have a second catastrophe of the same nature happen on his estate, Lionel strode towards the figure and caught it by the arm. The head was flung upwards at the touch, and Lionel recognised Robin Frost. [Illustration: "He caught a glimpse of a figure bending over it."] "Robin! what do you do here?" he questioned, his tone somewhat severe in spite of its kindness. "No harm," answered the man. "There be times, Mr. Lionel, when I am forced to come. If I am in my bed, and the thought comes over me that I may see her if I only stay long enough upon the brink of this here water, which was her ending, I'm obliged to get up and come here. There be nights, sir, when I have stood here from sunset to sunrise." "But you never have seen her, Robin?" returned Lionel, humouring his grief. "No; never. But it's no reason why I never may. Folks say there be some of the dead that comes again, sir--not all." "And if you did see her, what end would it answer?" "She'd tell me who the wicked one was that put her into it," returned Robin, in a low whisper; and there was something so wild in the man's tone as to make Lionel doubt his perfect sanity. "Many a time do I hear her voice a-calling to me. It comes at all hours, abroad and at home; in the full sunshine, and in the dark night. 'Robin!' it says, 'Robin!' But it never says nothing more." Lionel laid his hand on the man's shoulder, and drew him with him. "I am going your way, Robin; let us walk together." Robin made no resistance; he went along with his head down. "I heard a word said to-night, sir, as Miss Sibylla had come back," he resumed, more calmly; "Mrs. Massingbird, that is. Somebody said they saw her at the station. Have you seen her, sir?" "Yes; I have," replied Lionel. "Does she say anything about John Massingbird?" continued the man, with feverish eagerness. "Is he dead? or is he alive?" "He is dead, Robin. There has never been a doubt upon the point since the news first came. He died by violence." "Then he got his deserts," returned Robin, lifting his hand in the air, as he had done once before when speaking upon the same subject. "And Luke Roy, sir? Is he coming? I'm a-waiting for him." "Of Luke, Mrs. Massingbird knows nothing. For myself, I think he is sure to come home, sooner or later." "Heaven send him!" aspirated Robin. Lionel saw the man turn to his home, and very soon afterwards he was at his mother's. Lady Verner had retired for the night. Decima and Lucy were about retiring. They had risen from their seats, and Decima--who was too cautious to trust it to servants--was taking the fire off the grate. They looked inexpressibly surprised at the entrance of Lionel.