Thorn gave him a searching glance, and then, seeing he was resolute,
shrugged contemptuously. The huntsman blew his horn, the dogs were drawn
off, and Gerald followed the others across the field. Grace, however, sat
down on a fallen tree to rest her foot and for a minute or two thought
herself alone. Then she rose as Askew came through the gap in the hedge.
He began to pull about the broken rails and thorns, but saw her when he
looked up.

"They have left you behind, Miss Osborn," he remarked with a smile.

"I think I had enough; besides, I hurt my foot."

"Badly?"

"No," said Grace. "I have only begun to feel it hurt, but I wish it
wasn't quite so far to the bridge."

Askew looked at the water, measuring its height. "The stepping stones are
not far off. One or two may be covered, but perhaps I could help you
across and it would save you a mile."

Grace went on with him and they presently stopped beneath the alder
branches by a sparkling shallow. Tall brush grew up the shady bank and
briars trailed in the stream. A row of flat-topped stones ran across, but
there were gaps where the current foamed over some that were lower than
the rest. Grace's foot was getting worse, and sitting down on a slab of
the slate stile, she glanced at her companion.

"I imagine it needed some pluck to stop the hunt," she said. "For one