The Hunted Woman

nd her husband! He had not expected that. For a breath, as he looked out toward the bush, his mind was in a strange daze. A dozen times she had given him to understand there was no hus

o's pack-horses coming down to d

er dress and had drawn forth a long thick envelope. As she opened it, Aldous saw that it

xplain-partl

from an English paper, and told briefly of the tragic death of Mortimer FitzHugh, son of a promin

acquaintance came out here hunting. He returned with a strange story. He declared that he had seen Mr. FitzHugh alive. Now you know why I am here. I had not

ful emotion which she was fighting to repress. Her face had paled. She stopped

eason your anxiety is not that you will find him

to say. You will think I am not a woman, but a fiend. And I am your guest. Yo

ck to her lips. John Aldo

conds!" he cried. "I dropped them whe

e strange buoyancy with which he had gone to the Otto tent. He began to whistle as he went to the river's edge. He was whistling when he returned, the two birds in his hand. Joanne was waiting for him in the door. Again her face was a faintly tinted vision of tranquil loveliness; her eyes were again like the wonderful blue pools over the sunlit m

t had been said since Joanne's arrival. For the first time in years John Aldous completely forgot his work. He was lost in Joanne. With the tremendous reaction that was working out in him she beca

cuits go so well with marmalade," she told him. He built a fire. Beyond that, and bringing in the water, she gave him to understand that his duties were at an end, and that he could smoke while she prepared the supper. With

undred times. He found it a delightful sensation to talk to her and look into those eyes at the same time. He told her more about himself than he had ever told anothe

, which you call 'Mothers,'" she sa

the trilogy. But it won't be now,

nearly finis

week. I was rushing it to an e

look in her eyes,

tand why your coming has not hurt it. At first I was unreasonably disturbed because I thought that I must f

?" she asked. "Up there in t

said. "Last year I travelled a hundred and twenty-seven days

he table, and was looking at h

a great deal like you. I love those things-loneliness, emptiness, the great spaces where you hear only the whisperings of the winds and

er voice broke almost in a sob. Amazed, he

Ladygray?" he said after a

the quivering throb in her throat. "We were inseparable," she went on, her voice becoming suddenly strange and quiet. "He was father, mother-everything to me. It was too wonderful. Together we hunted out the mysteries and the strange things in the out-

ray-you are not speaking of Daniel Gray-Sir Daniel Gray, the Egyptologist, the antiquarian who

es

are his d

wed he

er. He seized her hands and drew her up so that they stood face t

that little Cape Verde hotel, in the low whitewashed room overlooking the sea. The proprietor told me that Sir Daniel had occupied it before me, and I found a broken fountain pen in the drawer of that sickly black

," said

iends of a day. The grip of Aldous' hands tightened. A hundred things sprang to his lips. Before he could speak, he saw a sudden, startled change leap into Joanne's face. She had turned her face a little, so that she was looking toward the window.

is face was there-against

ua

es

arm as he sprang

ried. "You mu

een him in Quade's place, terribly cool, a strange, qui

n," he said. "You are the first woman guest I ever

ething from his pocket. She caught