It was, as Stevenson would say, "a wonderful night of stars," and the air was full of their soft, quivering light, for the moon was late and had not risen as yet. As I stepped from the inn door, somebody in the tap-room struck up "Tom Bowling" in a rough but not unmusical voice; and the plaintive melody seemed somehow to become part of the night.
Truly, my feet trod a path of "faerie," carpeted with soft mosses, a path winding along beside a river of shadows on whose dark tide stars were floating. I walked slowly, breathing the fragrance of the night and watching the great, silver moon creeping slowly up the spangled sky. So I presently came to the "blasted oak." The hole in the trunk needed little searching for. I remembered it well enough, and thrusting in my hand, drew out a folded paper. Holding this close to my eyes, I managed with no little difficulty to decipher this message:
Don't go unkel dick bekors Auntie lisbeth wants you and i want you to. I heard her say so to herself in the libree and she was crying to, and didn't see me there but i was. And she said 0 **** i want you so, out loud bekors she didn't no I was there. And i no she was crying bekors i saw the tiers. And this is true on my onner so help me sam. Sined, Yore true frendandKnight,
REGINALD AUGUSTUS.
A revulsion of feeling swept over me as I read. Ah! if only I could believe she had said such words - my beautiful, proud Lisbeth.
Alas! dear Imp, how was it possible to believe you? And because I knew it could not possibly be true, and because I would have given my life to know that it was true, I began to read the note all over again.
Suddenly I started and looked round; surely that was a sob! But the moon's level rays served only to show the utter loneliness about me. It was imagination, of course, and yet it had sounded very real.
And she said, "0 ****, I want you so!"
The river lapped softly against the bank, and somewhere above my head the leaves rustled dismally.
"Dear little Imp, if it were only true!"
Once again the sound came to me, low and restrained, but a sob unmistakably.
On the other side of the giant tree I beheld a figure half sitting, half lying. The shadow was deep here, but as I stooped the kindly moon sent down a shaft of silver light, and I saw a lovely, startled face, with great, tear-dimmed eyes.
"Lisbeth!" I exclaimed; then, prompted by a sudden thought, I glanced hastily around.
"I am alone," she said, interpreting my thought aright.
"But - here - and - and at such an hour!" I stammered foolishly. She seemed to be upon her feet in one movement, fronting me with flashing eyes.
"I came to look for the Imp. I found this on his pillow. Perhaps you will explain?" and she handed me a crumpled paper.
DEAR AUNTIE LISBATH: (I read) Unkel dick is going away bekors he is in luv with you and you are angry with the Blasted oke, where I hid yore stokkings if you want to kiss me and be kind to me again, come to me bekors I want someboddie to be nice to me now he is gone. yore luving sorry IMP.
P.S.He said he would like to hang himself in his sword-belt to thearm of yonder tree and hurl himself from yon topmost pinnakel, so I no he is in luv with you.
"Oh, blessed Imp!"
"And now where is he?" she demanded. "Lisbeth, I don't know.""You don't know!Then why are you here?"
For answer I held out the letter I had found, and watched while she read the words I could not believe.
Her hat was off, and the moon made wonderful lights in the coils of her black hair. She was wearing an indoor gown of some thin material that clung, boldly revealing the gracious lines of her supple figure, and in the magic of the moon she seemed some young goddess of the woods - tall and fair and strong, yet infinitely womanly.
Now as she finished reading she turned suddenly away, yet not before I had seen the tell-tale colour glowing in her cheeks - a slow wave which surged over her from brow to chin, and chin to the round, white column of her throat.
