this consideration have its proper weight. "Jessie, I did not
mean to say the things I did. Upon my honour, I lost my head when
I spoke so. If you will, forgive me. I am a man. I could not help
myself. Forgive me, and I promise you--"

"How can I trust you?"

"Try me. I can assure you--"

She regarded him distrustfully.

"At any rate, ride on with me now. Surely we have been in the
shadow of this horrible bridge long enough."

"Oh! let me think," she said, half turning from him and pressing
her hand to her brow.

"THINK! Look here, Jessie. It is ten o'clock. Shall we call a
truce until one?"

She hesitated, demanded a definition of the truce, and at last
agreed.

They mounted, and rode on in silence, through the sunlight and
the heather. Both were extremely uncomfortable and disappointed.
She was pale, divided between fear and anger. She perceived she
was in a scrape, and tried in vain to think of a way of escape.
Only one tangible thing would keep in her mind, try as she would
to ignore it. That was the quite irrelevant fact that his head
was singularly like an albino cocoanut. He, too, felt thwarted.