How Haskins reached the Devon Maid that evening he could not tell, for his memory was occupied in recalling every word of that conversation. But in some way he managed to strike a narrow path which led on to the high , and thence gained the highway, into Denleigh valley. It was rather late when he entered his , and the of the sunset had given place to the shadowy stillness of a summer night. Supper was waiting for him, and almost immediately the negro appeared with a hot dish.  
"I thought you were lost, sah," said Geary, looking closely at Gerald's , which were somewhat torn by brambles, and with mud.
 
"Oh no," answered the young man, ready with an explanation, since he wished to satisfy the negro's curiosity without enlightening him. "I have been down the river and up the river in my canoe. But I got mixed up with stones and cross-currents, and blundered in the darkness. I therefore hid my canoe in the bushes, and came back."
 
"And you like the river, sah?" asked Geary, lingering.
 
Haskins supped his soup and nodded. "A most charming river," he said in a careless voice, "very quiet, very lonely. I shall explore it again to-morrow afternoon."
 
The negro withdrew quietly, and Haskins reflected on the way in which the man questioned him. More than ever did he mistrust Adonis, and now with stronger reason, for he felt certain that the negro was connected in some way with Major Rebb, who in his turn was assuredly connected with the Pixy's House and its . If Geary discovered that Gerald had met with the Princess, he might officiously inform Rebb, when there would be trouble. Without doubt the Major was behaving illegally in shutting up a girl, and therefore would not create a public scandal. Nevertheless, if he knew that Haskins had his secret, he might remove Mavis to another hiding-place. Gerald could not risk that, until he knew more, and again had met the girl. He looked upon himself as the knight-errant of beauty, and it him to be in his dealings with a very difficult and somewhat dangerous matter.
 
After supper Haskins lighted his pipe and seated himself by the open window to think over matters. Mrs. Geary entered and removed the remnants of the meal in her dumb way. After placing a cup of coffee on a small table at her guest's elbow she withdrew, and he was left to his reflections. These began with a consideration of Mavis' beauty of person and charm of conversation. It can thus be guessed that Haskins was in love--genuinely in love, and for the first time in his life.
 
As Bulwer Lytton says: "There are many , but only one Eros!" This was Haskins' experience. He had loved in an earthly way many times in his time, and several times had mistaken the false for the true. A fastidious mind had saved him from the commercial passion of the ordinary man, and he had usually approached women in the belief that they were goddesses. This was hard on the sex, as the attitude exacts too much perfection in a world of temptation. Consequently Gerald had been deceived several times, and therefore had guarded himself carefully against the tender passion. Then he met with Charity Bird, and,--in common with many another man--fell in love with her physical charms. But in spite of her beauty, which he grew to admire as he would that of a picture, Haskins failed to find in her the wife and helpmate his nature demanded. Outwardly Charity was all that he could desire, but inwardly she was less attractive, being matter-of-fact when she was not silly. She might suit Tod, but she did not match with Gerald, so he withdrew with little regret, and for some months, he had been heart-whole and fancy-free.
 
Now, in an unexpected and extraordinary way, the young man had met with another Charity Bird, more perfect than the original. Mavis was as beautiful in looks, and yet was higher in mind. From the strange upbringing to which she had subjected she looked at life--what little she knew of it--in a way. Yet judging by her remarks on cooking and and gardening, she had a fund of common knowledge, directed by common-sense. It was too early as yet to pronounce on her and trend of thought: but the spiritual power manifested in her personality appealed strongly to the lover who had loved her . Here indeed was the true Eros; a , who could be worshiped without disappointment. Gerald, with less reflection than he usually gave to his decisions, to be a faithful attendant at the of this divinity.
 
Having thus settled his attitude towards the girl, with the impetuosity of a young man and a true lover, Haskins began to think over Miss Durham's position. In spite of the , reported by Geary, he believed, from personal observation, that the girl was quite sane. Rebb, who was her acknowledged , had set such gossip afloat so that no one might comment upon the of the girl. Guarded in this way by public fear, which had been by a lying tale. Mavis might continue to dwell for the rest of her life amidst the ruins of the Pixy's House, closely watched by the Florentine and spied upon, in a less degree--as Gerald shrewdly suspected--by Geary, who was probably a creature of Major Rebb's.
 
Now, the question was this: Why did Rebb shut up so pretty and unsophisticated a creature in conventual ? She had committed no crime, and, from what little Haskins had seen of her, she had no instinct which would make her commit one. There must be some other reason and a strong one for the odd behavior of Rebb. This reason Haskins determined to learn, howsoever much Geary and his employer might desire to it.
 
Also there were other questions to which the young man desired answers. Why was Mavis so similar to Charity in looks? Why had she not been taught to read and write? Why was Geary--as Haskins verily believed,--posted at the Devon Maid to keep his one eye on her? Gerald could not have sworn in a court of law that the negro was connected in any way with the Pixy's House secret; but he had an intuitive feeling, from the man's behavior towards Major Rebb, and by his eager statement of a false rumor, that in some manner the landlord had to do with the matter. Haskins, therefore, placed himself on his guard and by a careless , and apparent frankness he succeeded in Geary's suspicions as to his true reasons for his journey to St. Ives. It was Geary who could answer, at least, some of the questions which Gerald's soul, and he lingered to hear them. Unfortunately he did not know how to inquire without betraying his secret visit to the Pixy's House.
 
Two or three days went by, and Haskins regularly took his way to the river, to seek the fairy palace. After that first attempt to so stubborn a stream as the Ruddle he used the canoe very little. It was easier and more to take the highway to the moors and then strike into the secret path which led to Mother Carey's Peace Pool. This Haskins did, and then would paddle across to the landing place, whence he could gain the summit of the cliff. Here he would climb the wall to hide behind the -tree, and hither Mavis would come to to her "Fairy Prince," as she still continued to call him. But owing to the presence of Bellaria the young man did not dare to into the grounds. Any moment might have brought about discovery had he risked so much, for, according to Mavis, the Florentine was a keen and restless dragon.
 
"She's afraid of something," said Mavis, one day, when Gerald questioned her about the woman. "I don't know what it is; but she is afraid."
 
"Why do you think that?"
 
"Because she is always looking over her shoulder with a scared expression, and she never sleeps in the same bedroom."
 
"Has she more than one then, Mavis?"
 
"Oh yes. There are many many bedrooms in the house, and Bellaria goes to a different one nightly. She's afraid of the darkness, too, and always in the house after sundown. When she goes shopping in Leegarth she returns quite pale and nervous. I am quite sure that she is afraid of something, but she always gets angry with me, when I ask what is the matter."
 
"Curious," murmured Haskins, "here is another mystery!" then he asked aloud: "How often does your guardian come to you?"
 
"Not very often. Sometimes he is away for months and then will come twice in a week. He really is very kind, for he always brings me presents. I call him Santa Claus when he does that. But, oh! there is Bellaria. Stay here, Gerald; I'll see what she wants."
 
As it was early in the afternoon Haskins had an excellent view of the Florentine, who stalked across the lawn almost to the foot of the beech, by her nursling's answering cry. "You are always sitting on the high branches of that tree," said the Italian crossly, and in most excellent English. "Why do you do that?"
 
"I can see the river and the pool," said Mavis quickly. "Oh! Bellaria, I wish I was a nymph, that I could into the cool water."
 
"You can do that without being a nymph, cara mia. But not in the pool below--not outside the grounds. Your guardian would be angry. No English young lady leaves her home until she is twenty-one."
 
Haskins smiled when he heard this falsehood. Bellaria had been well trained by her master, and such was the of Mavis that she accepted the limitation of her liberty in all good faith. "But I shall be so glad when I am twenty-one," she complained with a sigh.
 
"Si! si! si!" Bellaria placed her hands on her and nodded three times emphatically. "But you will not like the world. No, ah, Dio mio! the world is a dangerous and evil place." And she looked in a scared manner over her shoulder, shivering in the warm air.
 
The Florentine had been a handsome woman, tall and dark, and of a commanding appearance. She was still straight at the age of fifty-six, and carried herself with a air when forgetful of the danger that threatened her, that might be. Then she would cringe and , as Gerald had just seen her do. Her eyes were large and black, but the pupils were , and she looked like a terrified rabbit. Apparently the woman had cause to fear some enemy or some punishment, for not only were her eyes scared-looking, but her hair was absolutely snow-white. This might have been age, but fifty-six is not a very great age, and the hair might easily have been an iron-grey. There was certainly some shadow on her life which threatened disaster, and only when she forgot the danger, in conversation with Mavis, did Bellaria appear defiant and stately and tolerably young. But the very slightest of that past--and the past apparently contained the danger referred to--and her form , her body , her eyes grew timid, and she to seventy, as though by . All this might have been fancy on Haskins' part, for he was extremely imaginative, but he believed that he had read the woman rightly. Whatever might be the reason, Bellaria Dondi had been frightened into this lonely house; there to hide from some danger.
 
It appeared that the fit of terror her now, and that she had sought Mavis' company from sheer of solitude. Quite ignorant of the man up the tree--or rather the lover who was seated on the wall--Bellaria sat near the trunk, talking to Mavis. Both the lovers were afraid lest their secret should be discovered, but Bellaria kept up so loud a conversation--and it seemed as though she loudly to herself--that the occasional movements of Haskins passed unheeded. Mavis proved herself to be a capable actress, despite her simplicity, for nothing could have been more artless than her demeanor. "Geary is coming to see me to-night," said Bellaria, after a pause, and the observation startled the listener. "He sent a message by Matthew"--this was the aged, cross gardener, of whom Mavis had spoken.
 
"Why is he coming?" questioned Mavis.
 
"Major Rebb told him to come and see that the young man who is stopping at the Devon Maid has not been about here."
 
"What young man?" asked Mavis coolly.
 
"I have told you. A friend of the Major's, who is stopping at Geary's inn. He has taken to rowing on the river, and might find this place."
 
"I wish he would," said the girl, truthfully. "I should like to see a really young man."
 
"You will some day," Bellaria assured her, "and then you will be sorry, cara mia. Young men are all and . Geary wrote to Major Rebb in London telling about this Mr. Haskins--that is the name, I believe--so the Major says that Geary has to come over to-night to look round the place and ask me questions. So absurd," Bellaria her thin shoulders! "As if anyone could come here unless I knew."
 
"Why shouldn't this Mr. Haskins come, Bellaria?"
 
"Because you may fall in love, and if you do you may want to marry this man. Major Rebb does not wish you to marry until you have seen the world, my dear."
 
"But I have to wait for another ten months," Mavis.
 
"What is that? I--yes I, who speak, Bellaria Dondi--shall never never see the world again. Here I am shut up for ever and ever."
 
"Why, Nanny? I have often asked, but you never will tell?"
 
"I tell no one the reason why I stop here," said the woman sombrely. "I am dead to the world and to its people. For twenty years I have been dead, and it is as well that I should be thought to be dead. If they knew--if they guessed--ugh!" She looked round and shivered.
 
"If who knew?"
 
"No matter! no matter." Bellaria leaped to her feet. "All is done with and over. I was famous once, cara mia. Yes--behold in me a great singer. But you know, you know. Often have I talked to you of my greatness. And it was out in a night by---- ! hush." She cast a scared glance over her shoulder and into the middle of the lawn.
 
"Bellaria! Bellaria!" called out Mavis, "I'll climb the beech again." But the woman did not reply. She burst out into the Shadow Song from Dinorah, and Haskins realized at once what a magnificent voice she must have had. Even now many of the notes were true, though occasionally a high one was cracked and wheezy. Spreading her black skirts, she bowed and becked and swept and danced to her shadow in the strong sunlight, while her voice high and birdlike through the air. Thus singing and dancing, she re-entered the house, her dark hour over for the time being. Haskins wondered what could be her secret. Here, indeed, was a woman with a past.
 
But by this time Mavis had climbed the tree again, and was hurriedly persuading him to go. "Bellaria suspects nothing," she said eagerly, "and after Geary comes to-night he won't come again. But you must be careful."
 
"How can I be more careful than I am?" asked Gerald taking her hand.
 
"Come at night," she urged, "come to-morrow night when the moon is high and the fairies come out to dance. I am often in the garden on these summer nights, for Bellaria will not come out, and I hate to be mewed up in rooms. She will not think that I am meeting anyone, and then we can talk without fear of discovery. I shall lead you into the other garden through the arch."
 
"But if Bellaria sees me from a window?"
 
"Her bedroom is on the other side of the house, looking down on to the woods. She will not see us, and she will never suspect that anyone is with me. She knows that I love the moonlight, and, besides, she will not dare to come out because of her fear."
 
"I wonder what that fear is," said Gerald .
 
"I do not know. But go now, dear Prince, and come again to-morrow night at ten o'clock. To-night you must not come lest Geary see you."
 
"And if he did?"
 
"Oh!" Mavis shivered. "I don't know what he would do. He is a terrible black man, and has a knife with a yellow handle--a big knife, oh! so dangerous. He brought it from Jamaica: he told Bellaria so. He would kill you, if he found you."
 
"I quite believe that," said Gerald grimly, and resolved to arm himself with a revolver when he next came to the Pixy's House. He was resolved not to die without a fight. "But don't worry, darling. I'll be all right. Goodbye. To-morrow night, then."
 
He dropped from the wall and departed, while Mavis that he had not kissed her.