"I did not meet her," returned Lovel haughtily; "she left the church in the middle of the service, and I did not see her again. This morning I heard of her death; but I am as innocent of it as you are." "I don't believe it!" said Herne in hard tones. "I believe you met her, and because she would not leave me for you, you killed her." "I deny that I did, Herne; but since you accuse me, it remains for you to make good your accusation." "I shall do so--and hang you for your crime!" "Take care the halter does not go round your own neck." "What! do you accuse me of the murder?" "I accuse no one. I leave it to you, Mr. Herne, to make accusations which you cannot prove. Good-day to you all. Herne, you know where I live; any time you wish me to meet you I shall do so. But," added Lucas scornfully, "till you have evidence, I should advise you to restrain your tongue. I may not be so patient at our next meeting." Lovel walked away with a proud and defiant air, but Herne made no attempt to follow. He stood quite still, pale and motionless, with a glassy look in his eyes, and his mouth slightly open. Paul turned from watching the retreating figure of Lovel, to address him, and recoiled from this frozen look with an exclamation of alarm. "Chaskin! What is the matter with Herne?" The clergyman turned round, and seeing the rigidity of his friend, went forward and shook his arm. "It is one of his trances," he said composedly, "and will pass in a few moments. The excitement of speaking with Lovel has thrown him into it." "Is he often like this?" "No; only when his nervous system is wrought up by unusual excitement. As a rule it is his religious emotions which throw him into these states." "Can he move?" "Not unless he is guided; see!" Here Chaskin took Herne's arm, and led him down the road. The squire moved stiffly, like an automaton, with unseeing eyes staring straight before him. "Otherwise, Mr. Mexton," continued the Vicar, "he remains standing, or sitting, or lying, in precisely the same attitude as when in his trance." "Can't you wake him out of this cataleptic state?" "There is no need to," rejoined Chaskin; "he will come out of it as suddenly as he has fallen into it. The time varies, that is all; he may remain thus for an hour, or recover himself in a few moments. See--he is getting better now." At that moment the eyelids of Herne quivered, a sigh issued from his half-open mouth, and a sudden colour flushed his face. In another minute he looked round and spoke quite naturally. "Where is Lovel?" he demanded. "Gone away," replied Chaskin, taking his friend's arm; "and I think we had better go too." "No," said Herne, who seemed quite unaware of his trance; "we must search this spot." He looked round at the trees, and down on the red soil. Suddenly he picked up a feather--that of a goose, apparently--which was stained in attractive bands of red, yellow, blue, and green.