"I am going to have a comfortable smoke and stroll about --always within sight and hearing.I daresay you are watching me, and wondering what will happen when I discover you, I can tell you what will happen.You are not a hysterical girl, but you will go into hysterics--and no one will hear you."(All the power of her--body and soul--in one leap on him and then a lash that would cut to the bone.And it was not a nightmare--and Rosy was at Stornham, and her father looking over steamer lists and choosing his staterooms.)He walked about slowly, the scent of his cigar floating behind him.She noticed, as she had done more than once before, that he seemed to slightly drag one foot, and she wondered why.The wind was blowing the mist away, and there was a faint growing of light.The moon was not full, but young, and yet it would make a difference.But the upper part of the hedge grew thick and close to the heap of wood, and, but for her fall, she would never have dreamed of the refuge.
She could only guess at his movements, but his footsteps gave some clue.He was examining the ground in as far as the darkness would allow.He went into the shed and round about it, he opened the door of the tiny coal lodge, and looked again into the small back kitchen.He came near--nearer --so near once that, bending sidewise, she could have put out a hand and touched him.He stood quite still, then made a step or so away, stood still again, and burst into a laugh once more.
"Oh, you are here, are you?" he said."You are a fine big girl to be able to crowd yourself into a place like that!"Hot and cold dew stood out on her forehead and made her hair damp as she held her whip hard.
"Come out, my dear!" alluringly."It is not too soon.Or do you prefer that I should assist you?"Her heart stood quite still--quite.He was standing by the wigwam of hop poles and thought she had hidden herself inside it.Her place under the hedge he had not even glanced at.
She knew he bent down and thrust his arm into the wigwam, for his fury at the result expressed itself plainly enough.That he had made a fool of himself was worse to him than all else.
He actually wheeled about and strode away to the house.
Because minutes seemed hours, she thought he was gone long, but he was not away for twenty minutes.He had, in fact, gone into the bare front room again, and sitting upon the box near the hearth, let his head drop in his hands and remained in this position thinking.In the end he got up and went out to the shed where he had left the horses.
Betty was feeling that before long she might find herself ****** that strange swoop into the darkness of space again, and that it did not matter much, as one apparently lay quite still when one was unconscious--when she heard that one horse was being led out into the lane.What did that mean? Had he got tired of the chase--as the other man did--and was he going away because discomfort and fatigue had cooled and disgusted him--perhaps even made him feel that he was playing the part of a sensational idiot who was laying himself open to derision? That would be like him, too.
Presently she heard his footsteps once more, but he did not come as near her as before--in fact, he stood at some yards'
distance when he stopped and spoke--in quite a new manner.
"Betty," his tone was even cynically cool, "I shall stalk you no more.The chase is at an end.I think I have taken all out of you I intended to.Perhaps it was a bad joke and was carried too far.I wanted to prove to you that there were circumstances which might be too much even for a young woman from New York.I have done it.Do you suppose Iam such a fool as to bring myself within reach of the law?
I am going away and will send assistance to you from the next house I pass.I have left some matches and a few broken sticks on the hearth in the cottage.Be a sensible girl.Limp in there and build yourself a fire as soon as you hear me gallop away.You must be chilled through.Now I am going."He tramped across the bit of garden, down the brick path, mounted his horse and put it to a gallop at once.Clack, clack, clack--clacking fainter and fainter into the distance--and he was gone.
When she realised that the thing was true, the effect upon her of her sense of relief was that the growing likelihood of a second swoop into darkness died away, but one curious sob lifted her chest as she leaned back against the rough growth behind her.As she changed her position for a better one she felt the jagged pain again and knew that in the tenseness of her terror she had actually for some time felt next to nothing of her hurt.She had not even been cold, for the hedge behind and over her and the barricade before had protected her from both wind and rain.The grass beneath her was not damp for the same reason.The weary thought rose in her mind that she might even lie down and sleep.But she pulled herself together and told herself that this was like the temptation of believing in the nightmare.He was gone, and she had a respite--but was it to be anything more? She did not make any attempt to leave her place of concealment, remembering the strange things she had learned in watching him, and the strange terror in which Rosalie lived.
"One never knows what he will do next; I will not stir,"she said through her teeth."No, I will not stir from here."And she did not, but sat still, while the pain came back to her body and the anguish to her heart--and sometimes such heaviness that her head dropped forward upon her knees again, and she fell into a stupefied half-doze.
From one such doze she awakened with a start, hearing a slight click of the gate.After it, there were several seconds of dead silence.It was the slightness of the click which was startling--if it had not been caused by the wind, it had been caused by someone's having cautiously moved it--and this someone wishing to make a soundless approach had immediately stood still and was waiting.There was only one person who would do that.By this time, the mist being blown away, the light of the moon began to make a growing clearness.
