The Shadow of a Man

by E. W. Hornung

"Would I not!"

"And say nothing about it afterwards?"

"You try me."

"Then leave a horse that I can ride—and saddle—in the yard to-night!"

Ives was embarrassed.

"With pleasure," said he, with nothing of the sort—and began hedging in the same breath. "But—but look here, I say, Miss Bethune! You're never going all that way——"

"Of course I'm not, and if I do it won't be before morning, only first thing then, before the horses are run up. And I don't want you, or anybody, least of all my brother, to come with me, or have the least idea where I've gone, or that I've gone anywhere at all. See? I'm perfectly well able to take care of myself, Mr. Ives. Can I trust you?"

"Of course you can, but——"

"No advice—please—dear Mr. Ives!"

It was Moya at her sweetest, with the moon all over her. She wondered at the time how she forced that smile; but it gained her point.