Thus, to a grey-haired man who surely might have been wiser, it was actual misery to be in England and not at Hopton, where Alphonse Giraud was no doubt happy enough in the neighbourhood of the woman we both loved.
[Illustration: "IT IS PROBABLE," HE SAID BLUNTLY, "THAT YOU ARE BEING WATCHED."] "Yes," said Sander to me, after long thought.

"Do that.

I shall get on better if you are out of England." The man's air, as I have said, inspired confidence; and I, seeking an excuse to be moving, determined to obey him without delay.

Moreover, I was beginning to realise more and more the difficulties of my task, and the remembrance of what had passed at Hopton made failure singularly distasteful.
The Vicomtesse had property in the Morbihan, to which I could penetrate without great risk of arrest.

We had heard nothing from the agent in charge of this estate since the outbreak of war, and it seemed probable that the man had volunteered for active service in one of the Breton regiments, raised in all haste at this time.
Writing a note to Madame, I left England the next day, intending to be absent a week or ten days.