The Real Charlotte. 173 



tonously coupling itself with the name of Mr. Hawkins. He 

 was walking behind the others down the path to the pier. 

 Here and there great trees that looked tired from their 

 weight of foliage stood patiently spreading their arms to the 

 dew, and in the intervals between Gorman's fantasias on 

 the gong, he could hear how the diffident airs from the lake 

 whispered confidentially to the sleeping leaves. There was 

 no moon ; the sky was thickened with a light cloudiness, 

 and in the mystical twilight the pale broad blossoms of an 

 elder-bush looked like constellated stars in a nearer and 

 darker firmament. Christopher walked on, that cold memory 

 of danger and disquiet jarring the fragrance and peace of 

 the rich summer night. 



The searchers ranged themselves on the pier ; the gong 

 was stilled, and except for the occasional stamping of a hoof, 

 or low booming complaint from the cattle, there was perfect 

 silence. All were listening for some sound from the lake 

 before Christopher and Cursiter carried out their intention 

 of starting in a boat to look for the launch. Suddenly in 

 the misty darkness into which all were staring, a vivid spark 

 of light sprang out. It burned for a few seconds only, a 

 sharp distinct star, and then disappeared. 



" There they are ! " cried Lady Dysart. " The gong, 

 Gorman ! The gong ! " 



Gorman sounded with a will, and the harsh, brazen blare 

 spread and rolled over the lake, but there was no response. 



" They must hear that," said Cursiter to Christopher ; 

 " why the devil don't he whistle ? " 



" How should I know ? " answered Christopher, with a 

 crossness which was in some irrational way the outcome of 

 extreme relief; " I suppose he fooled with it till it broke." 



" Perhaps they are not there after all," suggested Miss 

 Hope-Drummond cheerfully. 



'' How can you say such a thing, Evelyn ! " exclaimed 

 Lady Dysart indignantly ; " I know it was they, and the 

 light was a signal of distress ! " 



" More likely to have been Hawkins lighting a cigarette," 

 said Christopher ; " if everyone would stop talking at the 

 same time we might be able to hear something." 



A question ran like a ripple through Pamela's mind 

 " What makes Christopher cross to-night ? " but the next in- 



