Nap did not see her at once. The background of trees obscured her. But as she drew away from them he caught sight of her, and instantly quickened his pace.
They met scarcely fifty yards from the cedar, and breathlessly Anne spoke. "Turn back with me a little way. I have something to say to you."
He wheeled at once, with no show of surprise. Though he must have seen her agitation he did not ask its cause.
They walked several paces before Anne spoke again. "You will think me very strange, but I have had a fright. I—I want you, Nap, to—to understand and not think me foolish or laugh at me."
"I couldn't do either if I tried," said Nap. "Who has been frightening you? Tawny Hudson?"
"Yes, Tawny Hudson." Anne was still breathless; she glanced nervously over her shoulder. "Shall we walk a little faster? He—he is lurking in those trees, and do you know I don't think he is safe? I think—I can't help thinking—that he is lying in wait for you to—to do you a mischief."
Nap stopped dead. "That so? Then I reckon I will go and deal with him at once."
"Oh, no!" she gasped. "No! Nap, are you mad?"
He gave her a queer look. "By no means, Lady Carfax, though I believe I should be if I went any farther with you. You stay here while I go and investigate."
He would have left her with the words, but on the instant desperation seized Anne. Her strained nerves would not bear this. She caught his arm, holding him fast.