’This is what comes of what you erroneously term dancing on the branches of trees!’ said Mr. Falkirk, in a great state of disgust.  ’But I have no idea I should have gone to that woman’s if I had been free.  More comes of it than I reckoned upon, or than six weeks will see me through.  Well, you got rid of him at last, I suppose; and walked all the way to Dr. Maryland’s in your slippers!’

’My dear Mr. Falkirk!—­slippers at an out-door party!  Yes, I “got rid of him,” as you say, when we reached the turning to Morton Hollow,’ Hazel went on, rather slowly, the shadow coming into her tone again.  ’And then, after that, I found out why my other companion had been so silent.’

‘Found out!  He had not been taking too much?’

‘I told you the supper tables stood ready all the evening,’ said the girl, sinking her voice; ’and—­it was plain—­now—­what he had found there.’

The silence now, rather than any words, bade her go on.  She caught her breath a little, mastering her excitement.

’I knew, presently, what I must do.  And when.  You have told me, sir, sometimes, that I was too hasty to resolve and to do,—­I had to be both now.’

‘What did you do?’ said her guardian.

’I must get away.  And on the instant.  For, just beyond, the woods ceased, and there was a long stretch of open road.  I thought, in that second, that my cloak might be caught.  So, with my free hand I unfastened it—­I don’t know how I ever did it!’ said the girl, excitedly, ’unless, as Byo says, mamma’s prayers were round me!—­but I slipped the cloak from my shoulders and tore away my other hand, and sprang into the woods.’

They could almost hear her heart beat, as she sat there.

‘Into the woods alone!’ cried Mr. Falkirk.  ’Then—­Go on, my dear,’ he said, his voice falling into great gentleness.

‘Things came so fast upon me then!’ she said with a shiver.  ’I had said, in that moment, “I can but try,”—­and now I felt that if you try—­some things—­you must succeed.  To fail, then, would be just a game of hide-and-seek.  That was the first thought.  I must keep ahead, if it killed me.  And then—­instantly—­I knew that to do that I must not run!’—­

‘What did you do?’ said Mr. Falkirk.

’I might not be the fastest; and, if I ran, I should maybe not know just where—­he—­was,—­nor when the pursuit was given up.  I must pass from shadow to shadow; moving only when he moved; keeping close watch; until he got tired and went back.’

Hazel leaned her head on her hands, as if the mere recollection were all she could bear.

’My dear!—­exclaimed Mr. Falkirk.  ’Did you keep up the game long?’

‘I do not know, sir,’ she said, wearily; ‘it seemed—­’ she stopped short,—­then went on: 

’I knew my dress was dark enough to pass notice; and as softly as I could I rolled up my white cloak and took off my gloves, lest any chance light might fall on them.  My steps were steady—­the others not:  so far I had the advantage.  Several times I heard my name—­I think the surprise must have sobered him a little, for he called to me that that was not the road.  But how long it went on, I cannot tell.’