Something had been a dream--her wild,
desolate ride--the slew tolling; for the voice which commanded with such
human fierceness was that of the man for whom the heavy bell had struck
forth from the church tower.
Sir Nigel recovered himself brilliantly. Not that he did not recognise
that he had been a fool again and was in a nasty place; but it was not
for the first time in his life, and he had learned how to brazen himself
out of nasty places.
"My dear Mount Dunstan," he answered with tolerant irritation, "I have
been having a devil of a time with female hysterics. She heard the bell
toll and ran away with the idea that it was for you, and paid you the
compliment of losing her head. I came on her here when she had ridden
her horse half to death and they had both come a cropper. Confound
women's hysterics! I could do nothing with her. When I left her for a
moment she ran away and hid herself. She is concealed somewhere on
the place or has limped off on to the marsh. I wish some New York
millionairess would work herself into hysteria on my humble account."
"Those are lies," Mount Dunstan answered--"every damned one of them!"
He wheeled around to look about him, attracted by a sound, and in the
clearing moonlight saw a figure approaching which might have risen from
the earth, so far as he could guess where it had come from.
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