The dog slunk away
under the canvas when the men came in, waited in hiding until they had
gone, then returned to the tent, and went on with his luncheon.
Moody hastened back to the part of the grounds (close to the shrubbery)
in which Isabel was waiting his return.
She looked at him, while he was telling her of his interview with
Hardyman, with an expression in her eyes which he had never seen in them
before--an expression which set his heart beating wildly, and made him
break off in his narrative before he had reached the end.
"I understand," she said quietly, as he stopped in confusion. "You have
made one more sacrifice to my welfare. Robert! I believe you are the
noblest man that ever breathed the breath of life!"
His eyes sank before hers; he blushed like a boy. "I have done nothing
for you yet," he said. "Don't despair of the future, if the pocketbook
should not be found. I know who the man is who received the bank note;
and I have only to find him to decide the question whether it _is_ the
stolen note or not."
She smiled sadly as his enthusiasm. "Are you going back to Mr. Sharon to
help you?" she asked. "That trick he played me has destroyed _my_ belief
in him. He no more knows than I do who the thief really is."
"You are mistaken, Isabel. He knows--and I know." He stopped there, and
made a sign to her to be silent. One of the servants was approaching
them.
"Is the pocketbook found?" Moody asked.
"No, sir."
"Has Mr. Hardyman left the cottage?"
"He has just gone, sir.
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