Her brow knitted thoughtfully; then suddenly clearing, she said:
“Take me away with you. Take me to your mother?”
And she looked so very beautiful, with something so imperious in her manner, yet so sweet, that little wonder if the Master consented.
“It’s a long journey, and a very final one, and, moreover, my horses are black.”
“I’ll trust to the rule of contrary where you’re concerned, and trust you too. Take me where you will. I have sufficient power given me of my own to guard against a vital evil.”
“You trust me to a certain point. No farther.”
She laughed.
“I trust you altogether, but wish to show it is not quite from weakness I wish to come with you.”
“Then we’ll go. My mother is hospitable, and so are others round about her. Some are better known to you, no doubt, than she. A stranger is a rarity among them. You will be welcomed.”
“Alas! But who can travel in a dress like this—at midnight, in the depth of winter? It is so conspicuous.”