“Are you going back into town?” he asked, as I paused and looked down at the umbrella swinging in his hand. I was sure that he had not held this umbrella when he started by me on the run. “If so, will you allow me to walk beside you for a little way?”
I could not refuse him; besides, I was not sure that I wanted to. Homely as any man I had ever seen, there was a magnetic quality in his voice and manner that affected even one so fastidious as myself. I felt that I had rather talk to him, at that moment, than to any other person I knew. Of course, curiosity had something to do with it, and that community of interest which is the strongest bond that can link two people together.
“You are quite welcome,” said I; and again cast my eye at the umbrella.
“You are wondering where I got this,” he remarked, looking down at it in his turn. “I found it leaning against the fence. It gives me all the clue I need to our fleet-footed friend. Mr. Ranelagh, will you credit me with good intentions if I ask a question or two which you may or may not be willing to answer?”
“You may ask what you will,” said I. “I have nothing to conceal, since hearing Miss Cumberland’s explanation of her presence at The Whispering Pines.”
“Ah!”
The ejaculation was eloquent. So was the silence which followed it. Without good reason, perhaps, I felt the strain upon my heart loosen a little. Was it possible that I should find a friend in this man?
“The question I am going to ask,” he continued presently, “is one which you may consider unpardonable. Let me first express an opinion. You have not told all that you know of that evening’s doings.”
This called for no reply and I made none.
“I can understand your reticence, if your knowledge included the fact of Miss Cumberland’s heroic act and her sister’s manner of death at the club-house.”