"Have you been there?" asked Hill, noting the girl's blush. He knew that Cain and Jane Wasp admired one another, though the policeman was not at all in favour of Cain, whom he regarded, and with some right to do so, as a vagabond. "Yes, sir. Mother sent me over with a message to a friend of hers. I walked to Westhaven and took the train to Colchester. Stag's Circus is there, and I met Cain. He brought that parcel and asked me to take it to Mr. Hill." "But why should Cain send parcels to my father?" asked Allen. "I don't know, sir. But I must get home, or father will be angry." When the girl marched off--which she did in a military way suggestive of her father's training--Allen proceeded homeward. The parcel was very light and he could not conjecture what was inside it. He noted that the address had been written by some one to whom writing was a pain, for the caligraphy sprawled and wavered lamentably. Cain had been to a board school and could write very well, so apparently it was not his writing. Allen wondered who could be corresponding with his father, but as the matter was really none of his business, he took the parcel home. At the gate of "The Arabian Nights" he met his father. Mr. Hill was as gay and as airy as ever, and wore his usual brown velvet coat and white trousers. Also he had on the large straw hat, and a rose bloomed in his buttonhole. He saluted his son in an off-hand manner. "I've been walking, Allen," he said lightly, "to get inspiration for a poem on the fall of Jerusalem." "I think some Italian poet has written on that subject, sir." "But not as it should be written, Allen. However, I can't waste time now in enlightening your ignorance. What have you here?" "A parcel for you," and Allen gave it. "For me, really." Mr. Hill was like a child with a new toy, and sat down on the grass by the gate to open it. The removal of the brown paper revealed a cardboard box. Hill lifted the lid, and there were two dry sticks tied in the form of a cross with a piece of grass. But Allen looked at this only for a moment. His father had turned white, and after a moment quietly fainted away. The young man looked down with a haggard face. "Am I right after all?" he asked himself. CHAPTER X MRS. HILL EXPLAINS An hour later Allen was conversing with his mother. Mr. Hill, carried into the house by Allen, had been revived; but he steadfastly refused to speak as to the cause of his fainting; and put it down to the heat of the weather and to his having taken too long a walk. These excuses were so feeble that the son could not help his lip curling at their manifest untruth. Hill saw this and told Allen he would lie down for an hour or so. "When I rise I may tell you something," he said feebly. "I think we may as well understand one another," said Allen coldly. "Bring in here those things which came in the parcel," said Hill. "Only one thing came," replied his son--"a rough cross----"