A bitter smile passed over the swarthy features of the mountaineer, who shook his head ominously.
“I will explain, milor, and hope to make you comprehend plainly enough the nature of the injury you have done, and for which I now seek reparation.”
“Do so, then, and let it be done as briefly as possible, for I have not much time to spare, and if I had I should not be disposed to a prolix account of real or imaginary injuries.”
Chanet leaped over a narrow ditch which formed the boundaries of a wood, and bade the earl follow him.
“What would you have me do? Whither would you lead me?” inquired the latter.
“A hundred paces in the forest,” replied Chanet.
“I don’t see any necessity to go farther. I can hear what you have to say here. What is your reason for penetrating the forest? Come back.”
“We cannot talk here, because we shall be liable to interruption, and what I have to say is for your ear alone.”
“You are a strange person, and I don’t know that I shall accede to your request.”
For a moment or so the idea that Gerome Chanet sought to draw him into the forest for the purpose of murdering him crossed Lord Ethalwood’s mind, and he did not, therefore, comply with the demand made by his companion; but reflection quickly banished this apprehension, which, if it was ill-founded, would be an insult to his rival, and might in any case call down upon himself a suspicion of prejudice.