“I know, I know,” he answered hastily, without looking at her.
And he began to pace up and down the choir, with his eyes on the long rough grass at his feet, and his hands behind his back. Freda felt the very faint hope she had entertained of moving him by her entreaties melt utterly away as she watched him. The whole face of the man—the steadfast eyes, square jaw, resolute mouth—all indicated strength of purpose, and a will difficult to turn. The trouble and anxiety which now clouded his face gave it no gentler character, but rather added sternness. After considering him in silence for a few minutes, during which he seemed intent on his own thoughts even to forgetfulness of her presence, she stole away down the nave, and getting through the window to the north side of the church, crossed the meadow towards the road.
As she approached the wall which separated the meadow from the road, Freda was startled by a man who sprang up suddenly on the other side. Already unstrung by the events of the preceding twenty minutes, she could scarcely repress a cry of alarm. The man, who had evidently expected some one else, touched his hat and said:
“Beg pardon, miss. Sorry if I frightened you. I was expecting to meet a friend here by appointment. I am afraid I startled you.”
Freda wondered who he was. Already she knew enough of the Yorkshire types and the Yorkshire accent to be sure that he was not a native of this part of the country; and there was a sort of trimness and smartness about him in spite of the rough suit of clothes he wore, and a precision in his manner, which made her think he was some sort of official. She wondered whether it was John Thurley he was waiting for, and if so, what his business with him was.
Going back to the ruins, she had got into the shadow of the east end when she again came face to face with Thurley. The expression of his countenance had changed; instead of the frown of anxiety he had worn a few minutes before, care of another kind, far less stern, but scarcely less disquieting to the young girl, was stamped upon his somewhat rough features. Yet she could not have explained the feeling which caused her to start and blush, and to hope that he would let her pass without speaking.
But that was far from being his intention. He started forward at sight of her, and his face flushed.
“Ah, I was looking for you; I have something to say to you.”
He turned to walk beside her, but went a few paces without saying anything further. When they reached the angle of the ruin he stopped and, looking down upon her rather shyly, said abruptly:
“Give me your arm. We are friends enough for that, aren’t we?”