"Yes,but you must have met somebody--other men--here even,when you were out with your schoolfellows,or perhaps on an adventure like this."Her white coif turned towards him quickly."I never wanted to know anybody else.I never cared to see anybody else.I never would have gone out in this way but for you,"she said hurriedly.After a pause she added in a frightened tone:"That didn't sound like your voice then.It didn't sound like it a moment ago either.""But you are sure that you know my voice,"he said,with affected gayety."There were two others in the hollow with me that night.""I know that,too.But I know even what you said.You reproved them for throwing a lighted match in the dry grass.You were thinking of us then.I know it.""Of US?"said Key quickly.
"Of Mrs.Barker and myself.We were alone in the house,for my brother and her husband were both away.What you said seemed to forewarn me,and I told her.So we were prepared when the fire came nearer,and we both escaped on the same horse.""And you dropped your shoes in your flight,"said Key laughingly,"and I picked them up the next day,when I came to search for you.
I have kept them still."
"They were HER shoes,"said the girl quickly,"I couldn't find mine in our hurry,and hers were too large for me,and dropped off."She stopped,and with a faint return of her old gladness said,"Then you DID come back?I KNEW you would.""I should have stayed THEN,but we got no reply when we shouted.
Why was that?"he demanded suddenly.
"Oh,we were warned against speaking to any stranger,or even being seen by any one while we were alone,"returned the girl simply.
"But why?"persisted Key.
"Oh,because there were so many highwaymen and horse-stealers in the woods.Why,they had stopped the coach only a few weeks before,and only a day or two ago,when Mrs.Barker came down.SHEsaw them!"
Key with difficulty suppressed a groan.They walked on in silence for some moments,he scarcely daring to lift his eyes to the decorous little figure hastening by his side.Alternately touched by mistrust and pain,at last an infinite pity,not unmingled with a desperate resolution,took possession of him.
"I must make a confession to you,Miss Rivers,"he began with the bashful haste of a very boy,"that is"--he stammered with a half hysteric laugh,--"that is--a confession as if you were really a sister or a priest,you know--a sort of confidence to you--to your dress.I HAVE seen you,or THOUGHT I saw you before.It was that which brought me here,that which made me follow Mrs.Barker--my only clue to you--to the door of that convent.That night,in the hollow,I saw a profile at the lighted window,which I thought was yours.""I never was near the window,"said the young girl quickly."It must have been Mrs.Barker.""I know that now,"returned Key."But remember,it was my only clue to you.I mean,"he added awkwardly,"it was the means of my finding you.""I don't see how it made you think of me,whom you never saw,to see another woman's profile,"she retorted,with the faintest touch of asperity in her childlike voice."But,"she added,more gently and with a relapse into her adorable naivete,"most people's profiles look alike.""It was not that,"protested Key,still awkwardly,"it was only that I realized something--only a dream,perhaps."She did not reply,and they continued on in silence.The gray wall of the convent was already in sight.Key felt he had achieved nothing.Except for information that was hopeless,he had come to no nearer understanding of the beautiful girl beside him,and his future appeared as vague as before;and,above all,he was conscious of an inferiority of character and purpose to this simple creature,who had obeyed him so submissively.Had he acted wisely?
Would it not have been better if he had followed her own frankness,and--"Then it was Mrs.Barker's profile that brought you here?"resumed the voice beneath the coif."You know she has gone back.Isuppose you will follow?"
"You will not understand me,"said Key desperately."But,"he added in a lower voice,"I shall remain here until you do."He drew a little closer to her side.
"Then you must not begin by walking so close to me,"she said,moving slightly away;"they may see you from the gate.And you must not go with me beyond that corner.If I have been missed already they will suspect you.""But how shall I know?"he said,attempting to take her hand."Let me walk past the gate.I cannot leave you in this uncertainty.""You will know soon enough,"she said gravely,evading his hand.
"You must not go further now.Good-night."
She had stopped at the corner of the wall.He again held out his hand.Her little fingers slid coldly between his.
"Good-night,Miss Rivers."
"Stop!"she said suddenly,withdrawing her veil and lifting her clear eyes to his in the moonlight."You must not say THAT--it isn't the truth.I can't bear to hear it from YOUR lips,in YOURvoice.My name is NOT Rivers!"
"Not Rivers--why?"said Key,astounded.
"Oh,I don't know why,"she said half despairingly;"only my brother didn't want me to use my name and his here,and I promised.
My name is 'Riggs'--there!It's a secret--you mustn't tell it;but I could not bear to hear YOU say a lie.""Good-night,Miss Riggs,"said Key sadly.
"No,nor that either,"she said softly."Say Alice.""Good-night,Alice."
She moved on before him.She reached the gate.For a moment her figure,in its austere,formless garments,seemed to him to even stoop and bend forward in the humility of age and self-renunciation,and she vanished within as into a living tomb.
Forgetting all precaution,he pressed eagerly forward,and stopped before the gate.There was no sound from within;there had evidently been no challenge nor interruption.She was safe.
