Of all this Betty was thinking and summing up definitely, point after point.  Where was the wise and practical course of defence?  The most unthinkable thing was that one could find one’s self in a position in which action seemed inhibited.  What could one do?  To send for her father would surely end the matter—­but at what cost to Rosy, to Ughtred, to Ffolliott, before whom the fair path to dignified security had so newly opened itself?  What would be the effect of sudden confusion, anguish, and public humiliation upon Rosalie’s carefully rebuilt health and strength—­upon her mother’s new hope and happiness?  At moments it seemed as if almost all that had been done might be undone.  She was beset by such a moment now, and felt for the time, at least, like a creature tied hand and foot while in full strength.

Certainly she was not prepared for the event which happened.  Roland stiffened his ears, and, beginning a rumbling growl, ended it suddenly, realising it an unnecessary precaution.

He knew the man walking up the incline of the mound from the side behind them.  So did Betty know him.  It was Sir Nigel looking rather glowering and pale and walking slowly.  He had discovered where she had meant to take refuge, and had probably ridden to some point where he could leave his horse and follow her at the expense of taking a short cut which saved walking.

As he climbed the mound to join her, Betty rose to her feet.

“My dear girl,” he said, “don’t get up as if you meant to go away.  It has cost me some exertion to find you.”

“It will not cost you any exertion to lose me,” was her light answer.  “I am going away.”

He had reached her, and stood still before her with scarcely a yard’s distance between them.  He was slightly out of breath and even a trifle livid.  He leaned on his stick and his look at her combined leaping bad temper with something deeper.

“Look here!” he broke out, “why do you make such a point of treating me like the devil?”

Betty felt her heart give a hastened beat, not of fear, but of repulsion.  This was the mood and manner which subjugated Rosalie.  He had so raised his voice that two men in the distance, who might be either labourers or sportsmen, hearing its high tone, glanced curiously towards them.

“Why do you ask me a question which is totally absurd?” she said.

“It is not absurd,” he answered.  “I am speaking of facts, and I intend to come to some understanding about them.”

For reply, after meeting his look a few seconds, she simply turned her back and began to walk away.  He followed and overtook her.

“I shall go with you, and I shall say what I want to say,” he persisted.  “If you hasten your pace I shall hasten mine.  I cannot exactly see you running away from me across the marsh, screaming.  You wouldn’t care to be rescued by those men over there who are watching us.  I should explain myself to them in terms neither you nor Rosalie would enjoy.  There!  I knew Rosalie’s name would pull you up.  Good God!  I wish I were a weak fool with a magnificent creature protecting me at all risks.”