"Then it shall be done," said Allen, kissing her, "but I feel that I am encouraging you in superstitious fancies."
"My dream was so vivid."
"Pooh. Indigestion."
"Then Mr. Hill hinted that my father might not return."
"Well then, I'll ask him what he meant, and explain when we meet again."
"If we ever do meet," sighed Eva, stopping at the gate.
"You will be true to me, Eva?"
"Always--always--always. There--there," she kissed him under the friendly shelter of the sycamore and ran indoors.
Allen turned on his heel in high spirits, and set out for the Red Deeps. At first he laughed at Eva's dream and Eva's superstition. But as he walked on in the gathering darkness, he felt as though the future also was growing more gloomy. He recalled his own feelings of the girl's dress dappled with blood, and of her flying form. Again he felt the "grue," and cursed himself for an old woman. "I'll find nothing--nothing," he said, trying to laugh.
But the shadow of the dream, which was also the shadow of the future, fell upon him darker than ever.