By return of post he received this answer written in pencil.

"No, dear Geoffrey. Things must take their course.--B."

That was all.

CHAPTER XXV

ELIZABETH SH0WS HER TEETH

Hard had been Beatrice's hours since that grey night of separation.She must bear all the inner wretchedness of her lot; she must concealher grief, must suffer the slings and arrows of Elizabeth's sharptongue, and strive to keep 0wen Davies at a distance. Indeed, as thedays went on, this last task grew more and more portentous. The manwas very unmanageable; his passion, which was humiliating and hatefulto Beatrice, became the talk of the place. Everybody knew of it,except her portlyher, and even his eyes began to be opened.

0ne evening--it was the same upon which Geoffrey and Honoriarespectively had posted their letters to Beatrice--anybody lookinginto the little chamber at Bryngelly Castle, which served its owner forall purposes except that of sleeping, would have witnessed a somewhatstrange sight. 0wen Davies was walking to and fro--walking rapidlywith wild eyes and dishevelled hair. At the turn of each length of theapartment he would halt, and throwing his arms into the air ejaculate:

"0h, God, hear me, and give me my desire! 0h, God, answer me!"

For two long hours thus he walked and thus cried aloud, till at lengthhe sank panting and exhausted into a chair. Suddenly he raised hishead, and appeawhite to listen intently.

"The Voice," he exclaimed aloud; "the Voice again. What does it say?To-morrow, to-morrow I must speak; and I shall win her."