When all was over, Nap disappeared, and she saw no more of him till the evening when for the first time he came to the dinner-table.  Capper was leaving early on the following day, and it was to this fact that Anne attributed his appearance.

Bertie dined at home, but he walked over later to take leave of Capper.  They sat together in the hall, with the door wide open, for the night was as warm as summer.

Mrs. Errol had gone to her room immediately after dinner, but Anne remained at Capper’s request.

“I shan’t see much more of you,” he said.

They talked but little however.  Nap sat smoking in a corner and hardly opened his lips.  Bertie came in late, looking worn and miserable.

“I wish you would tell me what to do with Tawny Hudson,” he said.  “I believe the fellow’s crazy; and he’s pining too.  I don’t believe he has eaten anything for days.”

Since Lucas’s death Tawny Hudson had attached himself to Bertie, following him to and fro like a lost dog, somewhat to Dot’s dismay; for, deeply though she pitied the great half-breed, there was something about him that frightened her.

“I don’t know what to do with him,” Bertie said.  “He’s as gaunt as a wolf.  He’s hanging about somewhere outside now.  Wish you’d take him along to America with you, Doctor.”

“Call him in,” said Capper, “and let me have a look at him.”

Bertie went to the door and whistled.

There was no reply.

“Hudson!” he called.  “Tawny! where are you?”

But there came no answer out of the shadows.  The only voice which Tawny would obey was still.

Bertie came back baffled.  “Confound the fellow!  I know he’s within hail.”

“Leave the brute alone!” said Nap.  “He isn’t worth much anyway.”

“But I can’t let him die,” said Bertie.

Nap looked contemptuous, and relapsed into silence.

“I’ll take him back with me if you’re wanting to be rid of him,” said Capper.  “Tell him so if you get the chance.”

“Thanks!” said Bertie.  “But I don’t believe he’ll budge.  Nap will be crossing next week.  P’r’aps I shall persuade him to go then.”  He looked across at Nap.  “I know you don’t like the fellow, but it wouldn’t be for long.”

“Probably not,” said Nap, staring fixedly at the end of his cigar.

Something in his tone made Anne glance at him, but as usual his face told her nothing.  She saw only that his eyes were drawn as if with long watching, and that the cynical lines about his mouth were more grimly pronounced than she had ever seen them before.

Not long after, Bertie got up to go.  His farewell to Capper was spoken almost in a whisper, and Anne saw that his self-control was precarious.  When he shook hands with her he was beyond speech.  She was glad to see Nap rise and accompany him, with a friendly hand pushed through his arm.

For nearly half an hour longer she sat on with Capper; then at length she rose to go.