She read the letter through again, and suddenly her heart began to throb thick and hard, so that she gasped for breath. This was Nick's doing. She was as sure of it as if those brief, bitter sentences had definitely told her so. Nick was the motive power that had compelled Grange to this action. How he had done it, she could not even vaguely surmise. But that he had in some malevolent fashion come between them she did not for an instant doubt.
And wherefore? She put her hand to her throat, feeling suffocated, as the memory of that last interview with him on the shore raced with every fiery detail through her brain. He had marked her down for himself, long, long ago, and whatever Dr. Jim might say, he had never abandoned the pursuit. He meant to capture her at last. She might flee, but he was following, tireless, fleet, determined. Presently he would swoop like an eagle upon his prey, and she would be utterly at his mercy. He had beaten Grange, and there was no one left to help her.
"Oh, Muriel,"—it was Olga's voice from the window—"come here, quick, quick! I can see a hawk."
She started as one starts from a horrible dream, and looked round with dazed eyes.
"It's hovering!" cried Olga excitedly. "It's hovering! There! Now it has struck!"
"And something is dead," said Muriel, in a voiceless whisper.
The child turned round, saw something unusual in her friend's face, and went impetuously to her.
"Muriel, darling, you look so strange. Is anything the matter?"
Muriel put an arm around her. "No, nothing," she said. "Olga, will it surprise you very much to hear that I am not going to marry Captain Grange after all?"
"No, dear," said Olga. "I never somehow thought you would, and I didn't want you to either."