an escort. So, with feeling of guiltiness in the part he was acting, and
in the surly silence he assumed, Alec let her lead up the lane she must
know better than he. Her previous speeches, which he had followed so
closely, were only remembered now to give food for conjecture as to who
she might be and what relation she held to her late companion. The
interest in his own journey and its extraordinary object were lost for
the time in the excitement of his knight-errantry.

He was astonished to see that the house, as they neared it, showed no
sign of life and light. The lady, whether inmate or guest, must surely
be expected; but the very roofs of the house and huge barns seemed to
droop in slumber, so black was the whole place and closely shut. Alec
was looking out for the house gate in order to step forward and open it,
when, to his utter surprise, he saw that the lady with haste passed it,
and went on toward the hill.

He stopped with hand on the gate and called her.

"What is the matter?" she asked, checking her walk. "Are you ill? What
is it?"

He supposed that his strange voice would tell her all, but, although she
was evidently puzzled, to his further astonishment, she did not realise
that he was a stranger.

"Why do you speak like that?" she asked. And she talked on rapidly about
some waggon she expected to find at the foot of the path. She went on,
in fact, as if unable to endure the loss of time; and he, thinking of
the waggon and waggoner as a further point of safety for her, ran after.
In a minute they both came out of the lane on a small common. Here were