At the sound of his voice Margery turned her head and started, and in the same instant she was on her feet.
“Margery,” he said, without approaching her, but extending his arms so that one hand touched the bushes and the other reached over the water, “I have you a gentle prisoner. I consider this the most fortunate hour of my whole existence. All I ask of you is to listen to me for ten minutes, and then I will cease to stand guard at the entrance to your little haven, and although you will be free to go where you please, I know you will not go away from me.”
Margery’s face was on fire. She was so angry she could scarcely speak, but she managed to bring some words to her lips to express her condition of mind.
“Mr. Raybold,” she cried, “if I ever hear any more of that horrid trash from you I will speak to Mr. Archibald, and have him drive you out of this camp. I haven’t spoken to him before because I thought it would make trouble and interfere with people who have not done anything but what is perfectly right, but this is the last time I am going to let you off, and I would like you to remember that. Now go away this instant, or else step aside and let me pass.”
Raybold did not change his position, but with a smile of indulgent condescension he remarked:
“Now, then, you are angry; but I don’t mind that, and I am quite sure you do not mean it. You see, you have never heard all that I have to say to you. When I have fully spoken to you, then I have no fear—”
He had not finished his sentence, when Margery dashed into the water, utterly regardless of her clothes, and before the astonished intruder could advance towards her she had rushed past him, and had run up on dry land a yard or two behind him. The water on the shelving beach was not more than a foot deep, but her mad bounds made a splashing and a spattering of spray as if a live shark bad been dropped into the shallow water. In a moment she had left the beach and was face to face with Martin, pale with fright.
“I thought you had tumbled in!” he cried. “What on earth is the matter?”
She had no breath to answer, but she turned her head towards the lake, and as Martin looked that way he saw Raybold advancing from behind the bushes. It required no appreciable time for the young guide to understand the situation. His whole form quivered, his hands involuntarily clinched, his brows knitted, and he made one quick step forward; but only one, for Margery seized him by the wrist. Without knowing what he was doing, he struggled to free himself from her, but she was strong and held him fast.
“I must go to my tent,” she gasped. “I am all wet. Now promise me that you will not say a thing or do a thing until I see you again. Promise!”