Behind them the silence closed like the soft folds of a curtain, but it was not a silence devoid of life. As they drew away from the place, a man stepped out from the larches and stood motionless, watching them. A whimsical smile that was not without bitterness hovered about his mouth. As they passed from sight, he turned back into the trees and walked swiftly and silently away.
It was nearly a mile across the park to the lake in the hollow, and the boy and girl tramped it steadily with scarcely a word. Chops walked sedately by Toby's side, occasionally poking his nose under her hand. Bunny's face was stern. He had the look of a man who moved with a definite goal in view.
They came to the beechwood that surrounded the lake. The Castle from its height looked down over the terraced gardens upon one end of the water. It was a spot in fairyland.
They came to a path that led steeply downwards, and Bunny stopped. "I'll leave my animal here," he said.
Toby did not wait. She plunged straight down the steep descent. When he rejoined her, she was at the water's edge. She knelt upon a bed of moss and thrust her hands into the clear water. He stood above her for a moment or two, then knelt beside her and took the wet wrists very gently into a firm hold. She made a faint resistance, but finally yielded. He looked down at the hands nervously clenched in his grasp. He was older in that moment, more manly, than she had ever seen him.
"What's the matter, little girl?" he said softly. "What are you afraid of?"
"Nothing," said Toby instantly, and threw up her chin in the old dauntless way.
He looked at her closely. "Sure?"
The blue eyes met his with defiance. "Of course I'm sure. That horrid trap upset me, that's all."
He continued to look at her steadily. "That isn't why you won't have anything to say to me," he said.