CHAPTER XVI.
MR. JACK ROGERS AS A MAN OF AFFAIRS.
"I know," said I, meeting her gaze sturdily, "that you are in danger."
"How should I be in danger?"
"That I cannot tell you, Miss Isabel, unless you first tell me something."
She waited, her eyes searching mine.
"Last night," I went on, "in the road—you were expecting someone."
Her chin went up proudly; but a tide of red rose with it, flushing her throat and so creeping up and colouring her face.
"Was it Archibald Plinlimmon?"
She put up a hand as if to push me aside: but on a sudden turned and hastened from me, with bowed head, towards the cottage.