It seemed to her that the black trunks and outstretched branches of the trees were like prison bars across the moonlight. She wished she had not had that thought, but as it persisted, a figure moved behind the bars, the figure of a man.
At first she was startled, for it was very late, long after one o'clock; but as the man came nearer, she recognized him, although the light was at his back. It was Knight; and as though her thought called to him, he stopped suddenly, pausing on the lawn not far from the loggia. She could not see his face, but it seemed that he was staring straight up at her window.
"He has been walking in the moonlight, thinking things over just as I have in here!" the girl told herself. Surely he could see her! But no, he turned, and was striding away with his head down, when she knocked sharply and impulsively on the pane.
Hearing the sound, yet not knowing whence it came, he stopped again, and so gave Annesley time to open the window.
"Knight!" she called, softly.
Then he came straight to her across the strip of lawn and up the two steps that led to the loggia. She met him on the threshold and saw his face deadly pale in the moonlight. Perhaps it was only an effect of light, but she thought that he looked tired, even ill. Still he did not speak.
"Knight, you almost frightened me!" she said. "I was afraid for an instant you might be—might be——"
"A thief!" he finished for her.
"Or a ghost," she amended. "Weren't you coming in?"
"No," he said. "I hadn't thought of it. Do you want—shall I come in?"