"How kind and thoughtful you are!" the stranger exclaimed, and after a moment added with a weary sigh, "I must not trespass longer on your kindness. It is late now, and . . . I must go."
She struggled to her feet, rose with obvious reluctance.
"The inn where I was," she said. "It is not far?"
"But you cannot go out alone," Marguerite rejoined. "You do not even know the way!"
"Ah, no! But perhaps your servant could accompany me . . . only as far as the town. . . . After that, I can ask the way . . . I should no longer be frightened."
"You speak English then, Madame?"
"Oh, yes! My father was a diplomat. He was in England once for four years. I learned a little English. I have not forgotten it."
"One of the servants shall certainly go with you. The inn you speak of must be The Fisherman's Rest, since you found English gentlemen there."
"If Madame will allow me?" Sir Percy broke in, for the first time since the stranger had embarked upon her narrative.
The stranger looked up at him with a half-shy, half-eager smile.