"Can it in the least matter?" he demanded. "You have received the letter, and it is only for you to obey."
There was a peremptory ring in the speech which Vera did not like at all. She realised that she was in a lonely part of the grounds, and that, in case of need, assistance was a long way off. She began to wish that she had been more prudent. After all, the whole thing might be a plot against her happiness, a scheme into which she had fallen without asking herself a single question. These doubts became something like certainties when the stranger strode past her and cut off all means of retreat.
"You are wasting my time," he said, "and time is precious tonight. It is only a matter of half an hour altogether, and then you will be back with your friends once more. If I were not anxious for your welfare do you suppose I would be here at all?"
The speaker's English was good enough, but Vera did not fail to detect the foreign accent behind it. She was becoming afraid now. Her heart was beating faster. She turned to see if assistance might not be at hand. But the thick belts of shrubs cut off all sounds. She could hear absolutely nothing in the direction of the house. And then there was another cause for fear. Surely she could hear something creeping stealthily through the bushes. She listened again, and the footsteps seemed to grow closer. Then the bushes parted, and a great black head and a pair of gleaming eyes emerged, followed by a long, heavy body that crept up to Vera's side and rubbed against her dress. A cry of thankfulness escaped her.
"Bruno!" she panted. "How did you get here?"
Then she remembered the dog had followed them from Park Lane. He had been tied up by Walter in the shrubbery, and the broken cord attached to his collar told the rest of the story. The great hound lifted his head. The glittering amber-coloured eyes were turned on the stranger, and a deep growl came from the depths of the dog's throat. The small man in evening dress stepped back.
"That dog is very dangerous," he stammered.
"Not while I am here," Vera said coldly, "though, perhaps if he met you here alone you might have cause for uneasiness. And now, sir, will you be so good as to tell me your name?"
"Amati," the stranger said sullenly. "But what does it matter? You have made up your mind by this time whether you are coming with me or not. You know perfectly well, from the letter in your possession, that I am a messenger from your mother. I have a cab outside the lane, and I can take you to her at once. I pledge you my word that you shall be back in half an hour."
Still Vera hesitated. Still her suspicions refused to be lulled.