He knew the strength such a plea would have for me.
“I must see her. I will.”
He threw up his hands with a gesture of pain.
I half wheeled my horse round to start and then checked him.
“Why did she go in this way?”
Again he turned those wonderful eyes of his upon me, and answered slowly:
“If you do not know I must not tell you. She has gone out of your life altogether—altogether. It is her own doing; her own will and wish and doing. Let her go.”
“I will not,” I exclaimed almost fiercely.
“Have patience and the strength of a man, Burgwan. You have acted nobly to her, offering your life in her defence. She cannot repay you. She knows that, and I know it. Add chivalry to your courage, and spare her.”
“She told me to wait for her—in that letter, I mean; and yet before it was in my hands, she had gone away.”