No; Gerald has not kissed her. He wished to very badly, but something in his heart--a strong sense of honor maybe--prevented his doing so until he had made his position clear to her. She was so simple, so innocent, so virginal that she knew nothing of passion, or of life, or of that world wherein women marry and are given in marriage. With an almost absurd particularity the young man desired that, before being kissed, she should learn that he was her true lover, that he wished to marry her, that he greatly desired to enter into a lifelong companionship with her. To act otherwise was to her unknowingly to him. When she understood what love meant, and was ready to accept him as her husband, then could he seal this acceptance with a kiss. For he knew full well that such a kiss would the woman in her; would reveal life to her soul. A meant so much, that it was little wonder he restrained himself from following too hurriedly the desire of his heart.  
And perhaps it was that he found her and friendly acceptance of his presence too to with unconsidered haste friendship into love. Why spoil this idyll of lilies by presenting her with the red ripe roses of love? The romance was so charming, so dreamlike, that the instinct of the poet forbade him to rouse her. Mavis was indeed the Sleeping Beauty, within her palace, and he, the fated Prince--as it would seem he was from his finding of the cylinder--would in time awaken her with a kiss. But the hour had not yet struck. When it did, many things would come to pass.
 
In the first place, Mavis would no longer be to live in the Pixy's House, ignorant of life. She would wish to come out into the world, even before the age of twenty-one, and would not wait longer for her guardian's permission. Such a desire would mean a meeting and an explanation with Rebb, and Gerald, as yet, did not see how to bring this about. He guessed that when he to the Major he would be told of the homicidal with which Mavis was said to be . It would be vain for him to decline to believe in such a . If Rebb insisted that it was so he could refuse to allow Haskins to marry his , particularly as she was under age. Then again, if Rebb guessed that the young man wished to marry the girl, he might very easily remove her secretly to a new hiding-place, and Gerald would lose her for ever. Hasty action was not to be thought of, and it would be best to wait until he could learn why Rebb the girl in that ruinous house.
 
Haskins duly returned to the Devon Maid, and found Geary as cheerful and as usual. But now that Gerald was enlightened as to the connection of the negro with the Pixy's House he found it difficult to tolerate these false smiles. Piercing the mask of Geary's good humor he saw in him a dangerous man, gripping a yellow-handled knife which he was ready to use, should it be necessary. Haskins no longer wondered at the negro's presence amongst these lonely hills. He knew that he had not drifted there, but had been made landlord of the inn to act as a dragon. And a very dangerous dragon he might prove to be, should he gain wind of Gerald's philanderings with Mavis.
 
Geary, however, showed no signs that he suspected anything, but waited as usual on his guest. While at dinner Gerald seized the opportunity to tell his landlord that he stopping at Silbury on the ensuing night. "I have to run up to London on the day after to-morrow," said Haskins, with carelessness, "and if I sleep at Silbury I can catch the eight-o'clock train."
 
"I could dribe you dere, sah, for dat train," said Geary, beaming, and evidently pleased at Haskins' announcement.
 
"No, my good fellow, that would mean my getting up at five in the morning. I prefer to sleep at Silbury--at the Prince's Head Hotel."
 
"Will you come back here, sah?"
 
"Oh yes, in two or three days, but only for a time, Geary. I have to go on to St. Ives, you know."
 
"I shall be sorry to lose you, sah?"
 
"Thank you. I shall be sorry to go. This inn is comfortable, and the country all around is . I have left my canoe down on the river, and when I return I shall send it back to Exeter. I am tired of exploring that river--it is so lonely."
 
"Berry lonely, sah," Geary , and went towards the door with the tray in his hands. There he stopped. "Will you want me dis ebenin', sah. I go to see a frien' in de Lawd at Leegarth, who wish to see me for de good ob his bressed soul."
 
"No, I won't want you," rejoined Haskins, secretly disgusted at the fellow for using the cloak of religion to mask his Pixy's House visit. "I shall go to bed early."
 
"T'ank you, sah," and Geary departed. Later, while Gerald at the window his coffee, he saw the big negro walking up the hill which led on to the . For the moment it flashed across the young man that Geary might go to Mother Carey's Peace Pool by taking the down path, and there might discover the canoe. But on second thoughts he dismissed his reflection. Geary, being quite ignorant of Haskins' knowledge, had no reason to seek the pool, and so the canoe would be left undisturbed in the undergrowth.
 
Haskins had really intended to retire early, but, unable to rest quietly, he strolled out of the inn and on to the bridge. No one lingered there now, as the early birds of Denleigh had gone to roost. He had the Rialto of the village all to himself, as he thought, until he became aware that Mrs. Geary, with a blue shawl over her head, was leaning against the parapet. Wondering if he could learn anything about Adonis from his usually silent wife, Gerald moved alongside.
 
"A penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Geary," he said cheerfully.
 
Mrs. Geary turned, and in the moonlight he saw that she was crying. "My thoughts have to do with funerals, sir," she said, in a heavy voice, but with a much less use of the Devonshire dialect than he would have expected from a Barnstaple woman.
 
"With funerals?"
 
"I was thinking," said Mrs. Geary, looking at the water flowing under the bridge, "if it wouldn't be best for me to throw myself into yon stream."
 
"Why on earth should you do that?" asked Haskins blankly. And it was then that he became conscious that she had been drinking, for she swayed against the stonework. Perhaps it was the drink which made her talk more than usual, added to the absence of her husband, but she certainly spoke very freely, and told him much that he wished to know.
 
"Why should I wish to do that, sir?" she repeated scornfully--"because I am the most woman on God's green earth."
 
"Oh, surely not, Mrs. Geary. You have a good home, healthy children, and a capital husband."
 
Again she laughed scornfully. "A capital husband, when it suits him. Oh, you don't know what Geary is, Mr. Haskins. His soul is as black as his face, and that is saying a lot."
 
"I wondered why you married a negro," commented Haskins, leaning over the bridge, and leading her to in him.
 
"I married him because I was a greedy fool, sir. I was a housemaid, or at least a general servant, under Bellaria at the Pixy's House."
 
Gerald caught his breath. "That is where the mad girl lives, according to your husband."
 
"Mad? She's less mad than I am, sir. A poor, pretty, sweet young lady, who is kept a fast prisoner by Major Rebb."
 
"Why is she kept prisoner?"
 
"I can't tell you that, sir. All I know is that, sixteen long years ago, I was a servant there, and Miss Mavis liked me. I got on well with Bellaria too, although she had her fits of terror at times--why I can't say, but she often seemed to be scared by her very shadow. Major Rebb was away then with his in Jamaica."
 
"Oh! And Miss Mavis lived at the Pixy's House?"
 
"She was and is kept a prisoner there," said Mrs. Geary, whose tongue seemed to be very loose with the drink, else she would scarcely have talked so boldly. "Major Rebb came home with Geary, who had been his servant in Jamaica. Geary stopped at the Pixy's House, while his master went to London. He fell in love with me, and quarreled with Bellaria. They were like cat and dog, so when Major Rebb came down he said that if I would marry Geary he would keep my old mother out of the poorhouse. I didn't dislike Geary then, and I wanted my mother to be comfortable for the rest of her life. I agreed, and married Geary. Major Rebb settled us in the Devon Maid fifteen years ago, and since then my life has been a hell, with that . Geary will kill me some day," added the woman in a matter-of-fact tone, "unless I kill myself first."
 
"But a big woman like you can manage him."
 
"Not when he threatens with that yellow-handled knife he holds, sir. I fear that knife. Geary says that it was used in some African sacrifice in Jamaica, and the sight of it makes me sick. Because of Geary's treatment I took to drink, and he's always threatening to kill me, unless I leave it off. How can I," cried Mrs. Geary, throwing open her arms, "when it is the only thing that makes me able to stand the ?"
 
"Does he strike you?"
 
"He beats me and kicks me, and threatens me with the knife. Don't tell him that I said so, sir," cried Mrs. Geary, with sudden terror, for the drink was dying out of her, "if you do he'll kill me. I am afraid of death," she added, looking into the silver water, "if I were not I would end everything in yonder stream."
 
"I won't say a word, Mrs. Geary," said Haskins , "your husband will never hear anything from me. Why does he live here?"
 
"To watch the Pixy's House," said Mrs. Geary, "to see that Miss Mavis don't get away. If she did, and learned what she should learn, the Major wouldn't be able to dash about in motor cars."
 
"Is it money?" asked Gerald eagerly.
 
Mrs. Geary drew her shawl tightly round her massive form. "I don't know rightly what it is," she said, in her heavy voice. "Geary says very little, but what he does say shows that Major Rebb will never let Miss Mavis leave that house. And she's not mad, poor lamb. She's a poor innocent angel, the sport of . I'll go now, Mr. Haskins, and mind, I have your word to say nothing."
 
"You have," said Gerald as she turned away, "but if you want to help Miss Mavis----"
 
"Only one man can help her," interrupted the woman gruffly, "and he must be her lover, who will stand against these devils on her behalf. But she never sees a man, since Mr. Arnold went away, unless old Matthew counts, so what chance has she! There," she ended , "I have told you more than I ought to. The drink! the drink! Geary would kill me if he knew. Curse Geary and curse the drink!" and she returned slowly to the inn, striking her forehead and repeating: "the drink, the drink, the drink!"
 
Haskins remained on the bridge for a few minutes and then to bed, not to sleep but to think deeply. He had enough to occupy his thoughts throughout that long summer night. Mrs. Geary, as the saying goes, had given the show away. From the remark about the motor car Gerald felt certain that Mrs. Geary had meant a loss of money. , if Mavis escaped from the Pixy's House, Rebb would lose an income, which rightfully belonged to the girl. But of this the young man could not be sure, and until he had more information he could do nothing. Still his suspicions had certainly proved to be correct. The negro was Rebb's creature, and had been posted in Denleigh village to guard the Pixy's House and its occupants. Haskins felt that he was on the track of the mystery, but could not follow it up until he talked it over with another person. Two heads were better than one, in this instance, and Tod Macandrew was very shrewd. Therefore Haskins fell asleep with a resolution to explain matters to the lawyer when he went to London. Meanwhile he had to meet Mavis in the moonlight on the ensuing night, and that thought alone was sufficient to fill his mind to the of less romantic matters.
 
Next morning Geary was as and obedient as usual. Evidently he had neither found, nor had he heard, anything to awaken his suspicion while visiting the Pixy's House. Haskins watched him closely, and weighed every look, every inflection of the voice; but in every case he was satisfied that the negro had not the slightest idea that his guest had stormed the Enchanted Castle. When the time came for Haskins to drive to Silbury the negro himself appeared on the box of the trap.
 
"Hullo," said Gerald, climbing in, and seeing that his portmanteau was all right, "this is an honor. Geary."
 
"Oh no, sah," said the negro, showing his splendid teeth, "you ver' good pusson, sah, to hab at de Devon Maid. I wish you to come here again an'--an' tell odder jemplem ob dis place."
 
"I'll tell everyone," said Gerald, when the trap started, "and I'll be back soon."
 
"To stay wid me, sah?"
 
"For a few days. I must then get on to St. Ives, as a friend is awaiting me there. What I miss about Denleigh, Geary," added the young man, in a careless tone, "is, that there are no pretty girls."
 
"No, sah, no. You hab to see Jamaica for de pretty , sah."
 
"You come from Jamaica then?"
 
"Yes, sah. Me buckra nigger, sah, and servant to Major Rebb. Him was in command ob a fine black rig'm't, sah."
 
Geary was communicative indeed, and simply told what Gerald had gathered from the wife. However, to shield her, he expressed suitable surprise. "I wonder you don't go back to Jamaica, Geary. After the Tropics this place must be , and extremely dull in winter."
 
"Yas, sah, it berry dull," replied the negro unsuspiciously, "but I hab de inn and de wife and de family, so I getting on berry well. But some day I go back to Port Royal to lib, wid money, and I a grand jemplem."
 
In this way Adonis all the long way to Silbury, and told Haskins quite a lot about his life with Major Rebb. The negro appeared to be quite to his old master, that Rebb had saved his life when it was in danger. "From what?" asked Gerald idly.
 
"Voodoo!" said Geary, . "I lose one eye in Voodoo," and after this remark he became silent.
 
Haskins had heard of Voodoo, of the terrible African , and having an in his company would have liked, from literary curiosity, to learn more. But by this time the trap was entering Silbury and the steep High Street, so Geary refused to say anything more. The loss of his eye was evidently a sore subject with him, and small wonder that he loved Rebb if the sight of the other eye had been saved by that military gentleman. When Geary drove away, leaving Haskins at the Prince's Head, that individual thought deeply.