“What is it?”

“Look!” she whispered, pointing, “there—­where it is darkest —­look!” Now, following the direction of her finger, I saw something that skulked amid the shadows something that slunk away, and vanished as I watched.

“A man!” I exclaimed, and would have started in pursuit, but Charmian’s hands were upon my arm, strong and compelling.

“Are you mad?” cried she angrily; “would you give him the opportunity I prevented?  He was waiting there to—­to shoot you, I think!”

And, after we had gone on some little way, I spoke.

“Was that why you—­came to meet me?”

“Yes.”

“And—­kept so close beside me.”

“Yes.”

“Ah, yes, to be sure!” said I, and walked on in silence; and now I noticed that she kept as far from me as the path would allow.

“Are you thinking me very—­unmaidenly again, sir?”

“No,” I answered; “no.”

“You see, I had no other way.  Had I told you that there was a man hidden in the hedge you would have gone to look, and then —­something dreadful would have happened.”

“How came you to know he was there?”

“Why, after I had prepared supper I climbed that steep path which leads to the road and sat down upon the fallen tree that lies there, to watch for you, and, as I sat there, I saw a man come hurrying down the road.”

“A very big man?”

“Yes, very tall he seemed, and, as I watched, he crept in behind the hedge.  While I was wondering at this, I heard your step on the road, and you were whistling.”

“And yet I seldom whistle.”

“It was you—­I knew your step.”

“Did you, Charmian?”

“I do wish you would not interrupt, sir.”

“I beg your pardon,” said I humbly.

“And then I saw you coming, and the man saw you too, for he crouched suddenly; I could only see him dimly in the shadow of the hedge, but he looked murderous, and it seemed to me that if you reached his hiding-place before I did—­something terrible would happen, and so—­”

“You came to meet me.”

“Yes.”

“And walked close beside me, so that you were between me and the shadow in the hedge?”

“Yes.”

“And I thought—­” I began, and stopped.

“Well, Peter?” Here she turned, and gave me a swift glance beneath her lashes.

“—­that it was because—­you were—­perhaps—­rather glad to see me.”  Charmian did not speak; indeed she was so very silent that I would have given much to have seen her face just then, but the light was very dim, as I have said, moreover she had turned her shoulder towards me.  “But I am grateful to you,” I went on, “very grateful, and—­it was very brave of you!”

“Thank you, sir,” she answered in a very small voice, and I more than suspected that she was laughing at me.

“Not,” I therefore continued, “that there was any real danger.”