To show that he understood—that he sympathised, he just patted her hand two or three times. This was absolutely the only movement of his which differed in any way from the conventional manners of a well-bred man towards a lady.
When she had finished her tea, he gently took the cup from her, and, commanding her with a gesture of gentle authority to remain where she was, he set about the work on which she had been engaged on his first appearance.
Under her directions he folded up curtains, examined tables, collected weapons and other bric-à-brac, until there was nothing left for her to do. From time to time, however, she saw him glance towards the door, evidently watching for someone, and when at last the servant appeared who had been sent to put the lights out, Mr. Richard slid quickly behind the stage out of sight.
Chris was sorry that she had had no opportunity of bidding him good-bye. She knew that he would not dare to come out in the presence of the parlour-maid, and she had no excuse to make to remain behind when the girl had put the lights out. All she could do was to make sure that the barn door was left unlocked when they came out.
On the way across the meadow Chris took care to be left behind, though she thought the girl looked at her curiously. She wanted to see that Mr. Richard got safely out of his hiding-place, although from the intelligence he had shown she had little doubt that he would do so. Just as she was passing the copse of beeches and American oaks which hid the stables from the house, he came up with her. As she turned towards him with a start he held out his hand. As she had placed hers within it, Chris was startled to hear Mr. Bradfield’s voice shouting some order to one of the gardeners. He was standing at the bottom of the flight of steps which led up to the house.
At first Mr. Richard did not appear to recognise his voice. But when Chris started, and threw a frightened glance towards the house, he followed the direction of her eyes, and saw as clearly as she did the figure of Mr. Bradfield in the light thrown by the hall lamps through the open door.
In an instant his whole aspect changed. The tender look in his eyes gave place to an expression of the fiercest anger; his face seemed transformed; he snatched his hand from hers, and uttering again the wild sounds which had so much alarmed her on the first occasion of her meeting him, he sprang away from Chris in the direction of the master of Wyngham House.
But, quick as he was, Chris was quicker still. Having long since lost all fear of Mr. Richard, and being anxious only to save him from the pains and penalties he might draw down upon himself if Mr. Bradfield should find out that he was at liberty, she sprang after the unhappy man, and almost threw herself upon him. She was afraid to speak, lest Mr. Bradfield, who had turned sharply at the wild cries uttered by the young man, should recognise her voice and come to meet her. But she pleaded by the touch of her hands, by the expression of her upturned face, which he could see dimly in the darkness.