"Afraid, sir? I thought--why, 'twas you who startled me."
"Ay," nodded Barnabas, "you expected--him!"
"Where is he? When did he go?"
"Some half-hour since."
"Yet he expected me; he knew I should come; why did he go?"
Now hereupon Barnabas lifted a hand to his throat, and loosened his
neckcloth.
"Why then," said he slowly, "you have--perhaps--met him
hereabouts--before to-night?"
"Sir," she retorted, "you haven't answered me; why did he go so soon?"
"He was--forced to, madam."
"Forced to go,--without seeing me,--without one word! Oh, impossible!"
"I walked with him to the cross-roads, and saw him out of sight."
"But I--I came as soon as I could! Ah! surely he gave you some
message--some word for me?"
"None, madam!" said Barnabas evenly, but his hand had clenched
itself suddenly on the stick he held.
"But I--don't understand!" she sighed, with a helpless gesture of
her white hands, "to hurry away like this, without a word! Oh,
why--why did he go?"
"Madam," said Barnabas, "it was because I asked him to."
"You--asked him to?"
"I did."
"But why--why?"
"Because, from what little I know of him, I judged it best."
"Sir," she said, softly, "sir--what do you mean?"
"I mean, that this is such a very lonely place for any woman
and--such as he."
Now even as Barnabas uttered the words she advanced upon him with
upflung head and eyes aflame with sudden passionate scorn.
"Insolent," she exclaimed. "So it was you--you actually dared to
interfere?"
"Madam," said Barnabas, "I did."
Very straight and proud she stood, and motionless save for the pant
and tumult of her bosom, fierce-eyed and contemptuous of lip.
"And remained to insult me--with impunity."
"To take you home again," said Barnabas, "therefore pray let us
begone."
"Us? Sir, you grow presumptuous."
"As you will," said Barnabas, "only let us go."
"With you?" she exclaimed.
"With me."
"No--not a step, sir; When I choose to go, I go alone."
"But to-night," said Barnabas, gentle of voice but resolute of eye,
"to-night--I go with you."
"You!" she cried, "a man I have seen but once, a man who may be
anything, a--a thief, a ploughman, a runaway groom for aught I know."
Now, watching him beneath disdainful drooping lashes, she saw
Barnabas flinch at this, and the curve of her scornful lips grew
more bitter.