And yet the more I thought of the lady's face and of her manner the more I felt that something was being held back from me.

Why should she turn so pale?
Why should she fight against every admission until it was forced from her?
Why should she have been so reticent at the time of the tragedy?
Surely the explanation of all this could not be as innocent as she would have me believe.

For the moment I could proceed no farther in that direction, but must turn back to that other clue which was to be sought for among the stone huts upon the moor.
And that was a most vague direction.

I realized it as I drove back and noted how hill after hill showed traces of the ancient people.

Barrymore's only indication had been that the stranger lived in one of these abandoned huts, and many hundreds of them are scattered throughout the length and breadth of the moor.