‘Till he gave it up?’

’Yes.  At last, I saw him go back to the road, and heard his tread there, turning back the way we had come.  Past me.  And again I had to wait.  Only I crept to the edge of the trees, where I could see far down the moonlight, and watch the one moving shadow there, that it did not turn off again among the shadows where I stood.  And then I began to think I could not go on towards home along that open stretch before me,—­for at least a mile there were only fields and fences on either hand.  I had noticed it when we drove along in the evening.  I could not go back towards Mrs. Merrick’s.  Then I remembered, in my ride upon Vixen, finding a short cut from this road to one from Dr. Maryland’s.  And I thought if I could once get to that, I should find unbroken woodland, where I could pass along unseen.  For that, however, I must cross the road—­in the full, clear light.  And what that was!—­’

‘But I went safe,’ she began again, ’and reached the shadows on the other side before there came sounds upon the road once more, and the full stream of late people began to come rattling down from Merricksdale.’

’Yes!’—­Mr. Falkirk’s word was rather breathless.

’At first, when I saw the first carriage, I thought I would speak and claim protection.  But that held only men.  And then came others on foot—­and some that I knew.  And it seemed to me, that instead of speaking I almost shrank into a shadow myself.  And when there came a little interval, so that I dared move, I sprang away again, and went through the woods as fast as I could go, and go softly.  The belt is not broad there, I suppose,’ she said after another pause; ’and I reached the other road and went on while in the darkness, along the edge.  But I think by this time I must have been tired, I grew so suddenly trembling and unsteady.  And the night was so still, and yet I seemed to hear steps everywhere.  I could not bear it any longer; and I thought I would just be quiet and wait for the day.  Only—­so far my wits served me yet—­I must once more cross the road; for the moon was sinking westward now, and the level rays came in about my feet.’

‘I thought I could not do it at first,’ she said, with a voice that told more than the words,—­’go out into that stream of light; but then I did; and hid myself in the branches of a great hemlock, and waited there.’

’And then I found Mr. Rollo,—­and I knew that I might trust him.’

With which most unconscious full-sized compliment, the girl crossed her arms upon her lap, and laid her face down upon them, and was still.

‘How did she found you?’ demanded Mr. Falkirk with unceremonious energy.  The answer was in an undertone: 

‘I found her.’

Mr. Falkirk was silent again.

‘No,’ said Wych Hazel, without raising her head, and again not stopping to measure her words.  ’You would have stood there till this time, if I had not spoken!’