She was standing in the same attitude-looking up towards the house. Suddenly a shock passed through her system. She had just realised the house was gone. It had vanished, absolutely and entirely. And not only the house, but its grounds as well, including the very lawn on which her foot had been resting…She discovered herself to be on the side of a steep, grassy hill, through the turf of which the naked chalk showed. She was some way down from the top, but there was not the least room for doubt that there was no building there; its bare ridge joined the sky from end to end…Here was a miracle indeed!…
Upon turning swiftly to see what was behind her, she was bewildered to meet the identical panorama which she and Judge had viewed yesterday from that window. The hillside she stood on was where the strangely-dressed man had been; she recognised at once by its general configuration and relation to the landscape. The sharp, smooth slope descended to the same little valley, along which flowed the same little brook; beyond it was that other hill, with the unbroken forest stretching to the horizon…after staring for a few moments, she clapped her hand to her eyes, and cried out. She could not understand it, and she feared she was on the point of losing her reason. But when she looked again she saw the same things, down to the smallest detail, and all was so brightly-coloured, so solid, so real in appearance, that she could not hesitate any longer to accept the scene as being actually existent…And it was so beautiful! The forest trees were clothed in fresh green leaves, the smaller trees in the valley underneath were smothered with white blossom, song-birds trilled and twittered, a wood pigeon was cooing softly, two distant cuckoos seemed to be answering each other, high overhead a lark fluttered and sang. The caressing wind brought to her the rich, moist fragrance of the whole countryside…Yes, yes-it was spring!…
She remembered everything. Every particular of her three visits to those other rooms at Runhill returned to her with startling distinctness, so that she was amazed how she could ever have forgotten. Moreover, her whole relation to Henry, both in private and in public, was suddenly made clear. She saw how worldly prudence on his side, angry pride on hers, had nearly succeeded in wrecking their happiness, and how this state of affairs had arisen, not from any fault of character on either part, not from any insufficiency of love, but from pure ignorance of the fact. They had not known that they belonged to each other…
Her heart sang as she saw him approaching her from higher up. He was only a short distance away. Still further back, behind him, she caught a glimpse of the gaily-dressed musician. He was lying on his side, head uphill, back towards her, apparently asleep; hiss fiddle-shaped instrument was beside him. Isbel gave him a silent welcome, but at that moment Henry was the more wonderful vision of the two. She had no real eyes for anything but him.
They hastened to each other with outstretched hands.
"You heard me this time?" laughed Henry, enfolding her and looking down into her eyes.
"My ears throbbed-was that really you?…Oh, Henry, what a terribly narrow escape we've had! How could we have been so absolutely insane? Surely we must have know that that ring was not thrown away for nothing?…"
"Some kind fate is watching over us, evidently. Whether we deserve it by our stupidity is quite another matter…However, you see now I'm not so mad as you thought I was?"
"It's heaven, I think. But is it true?…Where has the house gone to?"
"We're in the house."
Even while they were speaking, the brightness of the day began perceptibly to fade, almost as though a solar eclipse were creeping on. The sun became obscured by haze, the blue of the sky grew paler and paler, thin mists commenced again to crawl about the lower regions. The wind dropped, and a sort of hush came over the scene. The birds sang more fitfully.
"It's getting darker," whispered Isbel, with a slight shiver, uneasily drawing her fur closer to her.
"No, no. Dismiss the possibility. It can't change now." His strong-featured face smiled down at her protectingly.
"Let's hope not…How do you mean-'we're in the house'?"
"I entered it from the grounds, and I haven't passed out again into the grounds, therefore I'm still in it-and you're with me. I don't profess to understand, but it is so, and it can't be otherwise."
The mist sensibly thickened. Isbel could scarcely distinguished the trees on the opposite side of the valley. The sun disappeared, the sky was a whitish grey, while the air felt cold and damp.
"Henry, I'm going!" she said, quietly detaching herself from his embrace…"Everything's falling back…"
His face fell in alarm. "What's the matter? What's happening to you?…"
"We're returning t the old state. The sun's gone in, and it's growing misty and cold…Oh, can't you see it?"
"No, I can't. There's no difference at all-the day is as glorious as ever it was…Exert your will!…"
"My mind is getting all mixed up, too. I seem to be losing my grip of things…Do you know, I can hardly remember yesterday?"
"My poor, poor girl! Make an effort. Force yourself to see that it isn't so."
"Unfortunately, one cannot conquer facts. Oh, I'm going back right enough. It's been a short-lived dream this time-but it doesn't signify."
Judge bit his nails in agitation. "What's to be done? Something must be done. I must think of something…"
"I verily believe you are more concerned than I," she replied smiling. "You had better wake that man. Is he still lying there? I can no longer see."
"Wake him?"
"Is he too terrible to be waked?"
"His face is buried in his arm."
"Perhaps he will help us. He has done so before. But he quick! It will soon be too late."
"I'll go at once. May it turn out well! There's something very unusual in his appearance."
By the time both the crest of the hill and the valley beneath were blotted out. She was unable to see for more than a few feet around her, while the mist resembled a fine, driving rain, which did its work none the less effectually because it was impalpable.
She signed to Judge to stop, and, after staring at him for a few moments, with knitted brows, said:
"I'm afraid I've lost the thread of my ideas. Of whom are we speaking?"
"Of that man. The musician."
"What man? What musician?"
"Isbel!…"
"Mr. Judge," she said quietly, "my head is very confused, and I have to plead guilty to not remembering what or whom we were talking about; but one thing I do recollect. I requested you a short time ago to address me with the same courtesy which you would use towards any other lady of your acquaintance."
Judge turned pale, and bowed.
"You left me a few minutes ago," she went on, "and it seems you've come back. Is there any advantage to be gained by our pursuing this conversation?"
"I have no explanation to offer which you would at present be able to understand. I will absent myself once more. Please be good enough to wait here a few moments longer. I have complete confidence that everything will be made clear to you."
His features bore an expression of earnestness and humility which succeeded only in still further irritating her.
"No, I'm going home. Your conduct ever since yesterday, Mr. Judge, is entirely beyond my comprehension, but I will put the most charitable construction upon it that I can, and give you a word of advice. Continue your journey to London with as little delay as possible, and lose not time in seeking your medical adviser."