Trafford stood motionless as a stone, then he reeled, and, as he clutched the bridle, uttered a cry of rage and anguish.
He was right; he had found them together.
Esmeralda and Norman heard the cry, and both turned their heads in his direction, but he was completely hidden behind the rocks, and they saw nothing of him.
“Quick! Mount, Esmeralda!” said Norman. “Be brave, dear girl!” and he put her in the saddle and gained his own. Holding her bridle, he led her away at a hard gallop, leaving the solitary figure dazed and rendered incapable of movement by the paroxysm of wounded love and furious jealousy which possessed him as by a devil.
Norman and Esmeralda rode on for some time in compulsory silence, then, when they heard no sound of pursuers, Esmeralda turned to him:
“Norman! You here?” she panted.
“Yes, Esmeralda,” he said, breathlessly. “I’m here. Did you think I should not come after you? Did you think I should not know where you had gone when you took flight?”
Esmeralda sighed.
“Oh, Norman!” she breathed, “but why did you come?”
“I came to clear up this hideous mistake, to take you back,” he said.