Evelyn Berkeley was at home, instructions were given that Mr. Chesney was to be admitted when he called. She greeted him cordially; he saw she was pleased to see him.

"You bring the fresh air in with you. I suppose you have been riding in the Park?" she said, as she gave him her hand and a bright smile.

"It's the best part of the day for riding. I wonder you do not go out more on horseback, you are a good rider."

"You really think so?"

"Yes—really."

"I have no one to ride with."

"There's me, won't I do?" he asked laughing.

"Oh yes, you'll do very well indeed, but I have to be careful; I'm a lone woman and people talk."

"Let 'em," said Alan.

"That's all very well from your standpoint; you're a man, that makes all the difference."

"Not in these days. Women are taking a hand in most things, giving the men a lead. They are independent; probably they are right."

"Yes, I think they are, but still there are some things they cannot do; women are more likely to be talked about than men, it matters more to them."

"Why should it?"

"Because women are women, I can't give you a better answer," she said laughing.

"I met Jane Thrush as I came past the monastery," he said. "Pretty girl, is she not? She seems to like her lonely life at the cottage, at least she says so."

"A very pretty girl, and a good girl," was her reply.

"Do you see her sometimes?" he asked.

"Yes, very often; she comes here when she likes, Hannah is fond of her."

"You're lucky to have Hannah Moss."

"I am; she's a treasure."

"Been at The Forest for years, hasn't she?"

"She nursed me, that's a long time ago."

He laughed as he said:

"Not so very long ago, Eve; we were playmates, I am not very ancient."

"Well, it seems a long time since I was a girl and you a boy."

"We were good pals."

"Always."

"And we are now?" he questioned.

"Pals? Does that fit the case?" she asked.

"I hope so; I trust it always will."

She hoped not, she wanted a deeper feeling to develop.

Alan looked well, such a fine healthy man, strong, athletic, and she loved him; he little knew the strength of her feelings for him, how she longed to be his, to be conquered by him, to feel his strength pitted against her woman weakness. She kept herself in check, there was very little outward show of her love for him, although sometimes it would not be banished from her eyes, and they were beautiful eyes, eloquent, expressive, and this morning as she looked at him the love-light shone there, and he felt its power.

She was a beautiful woman, he would not have been the man he was had he not felt her charm. She was a woman well developed in mind and body, her taste in dress was exquisite, she knew what suited her and declined to be fashioned by her dressmaker. She stood facing him, close to him, and his senses were intoxicated by her fragrance. The scent she used was delicate, the perfume exquisite, it was peculiar to her; a very dangerous woman when she cared to exercise her powers.

"By Jove, Eve, you do look splendid!" he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm.

She flushed slightly. It was a tribute to her charm and she accepted it; there could be no doubt about his sincerity.

"Do I look better than usual?" she asked.

"You always look well, but this morning you excel yourself, you are grand! I mean it. What a prize for some lucky man to win!"

She laughed.

"The lucky man has not come along yet apparently; I am near thirty," she said.

"At the height of your charms; you'll meet the right man one day and he'll be carried off his feet and surrender at once, he'll have no option."

"Can't he see, oh, can't he see he is the right man! I'd fling myself into his arms if he asked me," she thought with longing.

"He will have to hurry up," she answered smiling.

He remained an hour or so and then left.

"Be sure and come to my house in town in Derby week," she said.

"I'll be there. You asked me to stay."

"Will you?"

"I dare not," he said with a laugh, as he mounted his horse and rode away. She stood on the steps watching; at the gate he turned and raised his hat, she waved her hand, and with a sigh, went into the house.

Hannah Moss, at one of the upstairs windows, saw him ride away.

"Drat the man," she murmured, "why doesn't he marry her; they're made for each other."

Eve went for a walk after lunch and her way took her to the village of Little Trent. She was popular with the villagers, the lady bountiful of the district, and gave with a liberal hand.

Abel Head stood outside the Sherwood Inn as she came along, he touched his cap, she stopped.

"We're having glorious weather," she said. "I suppose you are going to the Derby?"

"Never miss if I can help," he replied. "What's going to win, Miss
Berkeley?"

"Merry Monarch," she answered promptly.

"No!" exclaimed Abel. "Who told you?"

"That's a secret," she said laughing.

"He's at a good price."

"A hundred to eight."

"I'll risk a trifle on him," said Abel.

"Don't back him because I've told you," she said; "he may lose."

"He belongs to Baron Childs; he's a straight 'un."

"He's as straight as they make them," said Eve. "How's Richard? Have you heard from him?"

"Not lately, thank you for asking. I wish he'd not joined the army; he'd have done better to stay here and help me," said Abel.

"Why did he join?" she asked.

"Got restless, I suppose and——" he hesitated.

"And what else?"

"He was very fond of Jane Thrush," said Abel.

"And Jane did not give him much encouragement?"

"That's about the strength of it," said Abel.

"Jane is devoted to her father," said Eve.

"No doubt about that, but she'll wed someday, and Dick's not a bad sort," said Abel.

"He'll make a good soldier, Abel."

"Perhaps he will; he'll be a fighter, and it looks to me as though there'll be a burst up before long."

"You think so?"

"Certain sure I do; there'll be no peace anywhere until the Germans are licked."

Eve laughed.

"I understood we were better friends than ever with Germany," she replied.

"Some folks will tell you that, but don't you believe them, Miss
Berkeley. They're a nasty spying lot, I'd trust none of 'em," said
Abel.

"I hope you are wrong, war is a terrible thing," she said.

"So it is in a way, but we've been asleep too long, it won't do us any harm to be roused up," said Abel. "There's a man staying at my place I have my doubts about," he said mysteriously.

"What sort of doubts?" she asked.

"He goes by the name of Carl Meason, but he's a German, I'm sure of it, and he's a spy," said Abel.

She looked surprised as she said:

"What would a German spy find to do in Little Trent?"

"That's more than I can tell; probably he's spying out the land."

She laughed.

"What sort of a man is he?" she asked.

"Not a bad-looking chap, talks well, but there's something suspicious about him.

"Does he speak with a foreign accent?"

"No; speaks English as well as I do," said Abel.

Eve smiled: Abel's English was at times a trifle weird.

"Then I'm sure he's not a German if he speaks as well as you, Abel," she said.

"Now you're chaffing me," he replied.

"Not at all; I am sure you speak very well."

"If he's not a German he's a spy of some sort I'm certain. He's always looking at maps, drawing plans, making notes and figuring up things. It's my belief he's hit on Little Trent by chance and came to my place because it's quiet and out of the way. There's something wrong with him; if he's not German he's in the pay of somebody connected with 'em. I'd bet my last bob he's a spy of some sort, and I'll keep my eye on him," said Abel.

When Abel went into the Inn he found a map spread on the table in the room occupied by Carl Meason. He glanced at it and saw small pins stuck in various places where lines were printed. Putting on his glasses he saw these were road lines and noticed most of them in which the pins were sticking ran from the coast inland; he had no time for further observation, as Meason entered the room.

"Rather a good map, is it not?" asked the man.

"Should think so; I don't know much about maps," said Abel. "What's all these pins for?"

"I am a surveyor. I am going through some of the roads on this map; I shall have to inspect them shortly. I came here to do my work quietly. I daresay you wondered what I was at Little Trent for?" said Carl.

"I have been wondering," said Abel. "So you're a surveyor?"

"Yes; I'm considered clever at the work."

"You're a Government surveyor?" asked Abel.

"I am."

"I notice most of the roads you have marked run from the coast inland."

"That's my division; I am doing this for army purposes."

"Oh!" exclaimed Abel. "For our Government?"

Carl Meason looked at him quickly; Abel's face made him smile, he did not look extra sharp.

"I'm not likely to survey roads for army purposes for any other
Government," he said.

"No, I suppose not. It must be interesting work."

"It is, very; the more you get into this business, the better you like it," said Carl.

Abel left him bending over the map. When Carl heard the door closed he looked up, a scowl on his face. "Curse the old fool," he muttered. "Wonder why he asked me if it was our Government I was working for?"

He rolled up the map carefully, ticking the place where he had left the pins in red ink.