“I tell you that, preposterous or not, I will not go beyond them.  If you don’t like them, well and good, leave them alone, and I’ll put myself in communication with young Heigham to-morrow, and tell him that he can come and marry the girl as soon as he likes.  For my part, I am very glad to have the business settled.”

“You ask me to sacrifice half my property,” groaned George.

“My property, you mean, that you stole.  But I don’t ask you to do anything one way or the other.  I am to understand that you refuse my offer?”

“Give me a minute to think,” and George hid his face in his hand, and Philip, looking at him with hatred gleaming in his dark eyes, muttered between his teeth,

“I believe that my turn has come at last.”

When some thirty seconds had passed in silence, the attention of the pair was attracted by the cracking of dead leaves that sounded quite startling in the intense stillness of the night, and next second a tall figure in white glided up to the water’s edge, and stood still within half a dozen paces of them.

Involuntarily Philip gripped his cousin’s arm, but neither of them moved.  The sky had rapidly clouded up, and the faint light that struggled from the moon only served to show that the figure appeared to be lifting its arms.  In another second that was gone too, and the place was totally dark.

“Wait till the moon comes out, and we shall see what it is,” whispered George, and, as he spoke, there came from the direction of the figure a rustling sound as of falling garments.

“What can it be?” whispered Philip.

They were not left long in doubt, for at that instant a vivid flash from the thunder-cloud turned the darkness into the most brilliant day, and revealed a woman standing up to her knees in the water, with her arms lifted, knotting her long hair.  It was Angela.  For one moment the fierce light shone upon the stately form that gleamed whiter than ivory—­white as snow against the dense background of the brushwood, and, as it passed, they heard her sink into the water softly as a swan, and strike out with steady strokes towards the centre of the lake.

“It is only Angela,” said Philip, when the sound of the strokes grew faint.  “Phew! what a state she gave me.”

“Is she safe?” asked George, in a husky voice.  “Hadn’t I better get a boat?”

“She needs no help from you, she is quite capable of looking after herself, especially in the water, I can tell you,” Philip answered, sharply.

Nothing more was said till they reached the house, when, on entering the lighted study, Philip noticed that his cousin’s face was flushed, and his hands shaking like aspen leaves.

“Why, what is the matter with you, man?” he asked.

“Nothing—­nothing.  I am only rather cold.  Give me some brandy.”

“Cold on such a night as this?  That’s curious,” said Philip, as he got the spirit from a cupboard.