Margery turned to leave the place, but suddenly stopped. She would wait until Martin was ready to go with her. She would not leave those two young men alone.
Raybold was very angry. He knew well that such a chance for a private interview was not likely to occur again, and he would not give up. He approached the young girl.
“Margery,” he said, “if you—”
“Martin,” she cried to the guide, who was now ready to go, “put down that hammock and come here. Now, sir,” she said, turning to Raybold, “let me hear you call me Margery again!”
She waited for about a half a minute, but she was not called by name. Then she and Martin went away. She had nearly reached the cabin before she spoke, and then she turned to the young man and said: “Martin, you needn’t trouble yourself about putting up that hammock now; I don’t want to lie in it. I’m going into the house. I am very much obliged to you for the way you stood by me.”
“Stood by you!” he exclaimed, in a low voice, which seemed struggling in the grasp of something which might or might not be stronger than itself. “You don’t know how glad I am to stand by you, and how I would always—”
“Thank you,” said Margery; “thank you very much,” and she walked away towards the cabin.
“Oh, dear!” she sighed, as she opened the door and went in.