Gretchen, eying me critically and shrewdly and suspiciously.

As for me, I gazed from one to the ether, inquiringly, after the manner
of one who hears a tongue not understandable.

"He's rather nice," was the English girl's comment; "and his eyes
strike me as being too steady to be dishonest."

I had the decency to burn in the ears. I had taken the step, so now I
could not draw back. I sincerely hoped that they would not exchange
any embarrassing confidences. When alone women converse upon many
peculiar topics; and conversing in a tongue which they supposed to be
unknown to me, these two were virtually alone.

"But, my dear child," the other returned argumentatively, "we can not
offer hospitality to a strange man this night of all nights. Think of
what is to be accomplished."

(So something was to be accomplished? I was right, then, in deceiving
them. To accomplish something on a night like this, far from
habitation, had all the air of a conspiracy.)

"Feed him and his horse, and I'll undertake to get rid of him before
that detestable Steinbock comes. Besides, he might prove a valuable
witness in drawing up the papers."

(Papers?)

"I never thought of that. It will not do to trust Steinbock wholly."
Gretchen turned her searching eyes once more upon me. I confess that I