“Where did you find out that? Have you ever tried it?” she asked lightly.
“No,” said he, in a whisper; “I should not dare.”
They were both silent for a moment; the fire had fallen into mere smoke and blackness on the side near where they stood, and they could not see each other’s faces. But Annie heard the quick, loud breathing of the man beside her, she could see him bending down over her with one hand seeking hers, and a terrible fear leaped up suddenly in her heart, as she moved quickly away from him with a low sound that was almost a cry of pain.
Aubrey stood still, without attempting to follow or detain her. She could not have misunderstood him, and she shrunk away; that was enough for him. It was a very hard and very unexpected blow; he had by no means felt over confident of his success with her, but at the worst he had counted upon her giving him a hearing, and this abrupt repulse stung him to the quick.
He did not stand there long watching the flickering light and shadow cast by the burning pile in front of him. He sprung through the fire into the middle of the group of howling, delighted children; and took his place as the moving spirit of the throng with greater zeal than ever.
And, when they had all grown weary, and had burned their clothes and scorched themselves as much as they would, and the dying bonfire was at last left to the men-servants to rake out, and, the children having been sent to bed, the rest sat down to supper, Aubrey Cooke was the wittiest there as he had been the most active outside, and he gave to Annie’s watching eyes only this one sign that she had wounded him—he did not look at her.
When they broke up, between two and three o’clock in the morning, the two other actors and the other actress who had come left Miss Langton as a matter of course to the care of Aubrey. But she slipped past him and went on by herself. He did not attempt to overtake her, but followed at a short distance, in case she should be frightened by a stray drunken rough in going through the narrow streets which led to her lodging.
She was just in front of the house where Miss West lodged, when the door opened and two or three gentlemen came down the steps. The foremost, who was walking very unsteadily, staggered against her as he was turning round to speak to his companions. She gave a frightened cry, and rushed past him in terror. As she heard first a laugh and then a man’s footsteps behind her, she broke into a run, but stumbled against the curbstone of the pavement as she went over a crossing, with the man close upon her. He caught her when her foot slipped; and then, as she turned round sharply, she suddenly gave a startled cry and clung to his arms, sobbing out:
“You, Aubrey! Thank Heaven!”
“My dear child, who did you think it was?”