"Don't worry. I'll be there when you have your little talk," whispered
the colonel to himself.

"Suppose we walk up on The Heights," suggested the man. "We will not
be disturbed, and--"

"Up there?" she gasped.

"Why not?" he asked, as they walked on, and the colonel, affecting a
slowness in gait, heard the words. "Just because you used to walk
there in your--in other days," he substituted quickly, "is no reason
why you shouldn't now, is it?"

"Only--_memories_!" Her voice was very low.

"Memories? Bah!" The words were as though he spewed them from his
mouth like a bitter taste. "Come on!" and his tones were rough.

The woman looked at him a moment with eyes that seemed to burn through
her veil, and then followed. The colonel passed on ahead, slouched
across the street once more, and lagged behind, so that he might follow.

The couple turned toward the outskirts of the village, where, on a
hill, known locally as "The Heights" there was a grove of trees. Below
the hill, at one place cutting deep into it and making a precipitous
cliff, was a little river. At the point where the stream had bitten
into the hill it had washed for itself a defile, the bottom
rock-covered, so that the waters swirled over it in foam.

The Heights was the favorite trysting place of lovers, and many were
the pleasant spots there. With evening coming on, it was almost sure
to be deserted, though later, if there was a moon, murmuring voices
would mingle with the eclipse of the swirling waters in the gully below.

"Yes, it's a quiet place for a talk," mused the colonel.

The man and woman passed on. Behind them came the shadower, and behind
him Aaron Grafton.

Up The Heights walked the leading pair, seemingly unaware of the
presence of any one but themselves. Into the shadows they strolled,
still stiff and uncompromising, both of them. At last the woman,
halting near the edge of the cliff, beyond which the woods were
thicker, faced the man.

"This is far enough," she said, and she turned so that the fast-fading
light of the west was on her veiled face. She did not raise the mesh.

"Yes, this is far enough, I suppose," said the man, and there was a
sneer in his tones. "Too far, perhaps. But--"

"I did not come here to discuss anything with you but the matter you
spoke of in your note," cut in the woman. "Did you bring my diamonds
as you promised?"

"Yes, I have them."

His voice was as cold as hers.

"Then give them to me and let me go. I don't know why I consented to
meet you, except that you said you would give them only to me,
personally. And I don't, even for that, know why I came here. I--"

"Possibly in memory of other days?" the man sneered.

"Never!" she answered bitterly. "Oh, never that!"

"Well, as you choose," he went on, with a slight shrug of the
shoulders. "But I have a few things I want to say to you, and I didn't
want the whole village babbling about it. Too many know me here, so I
kept out of sight as much as I could."

"Say what you have to say, and quickly. Give me my diamonds, to which
I have a right, and let me go. That is all I ask of you."

"I'm afraid it can't be done so quickly as all that," and the man
laughed cuttingly. "In the first place, I want you to sign a paper. I
have it with me, also a fountain pen. I've a flashlight to let you
read what you sign, in case it gets too dark."

"Do you mean a receipt for the diamonds?"

"Not exactly, Cynthia, I--"

"Miss Ratchford, if you please!" she exclaimed. "Miss Ratchford to
you, always, after this!"

"Oh, very well! Now look here! I'm done with soft words and
foolishness!"

He took a sudden step nearer her, and she shrank back. Colonel Ashley,
who had worked himself to a position, where, hidden behind a screen of
bushes, he could see and hear, watched closely.

"Foolishness?" the woman questioned.

"Yes, foolishness! You know the trouble I'm in. I've got to have
money! You can get it for me!"

"I?"


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