“Oh, you haven’t anything to fear!”
Her answering look was so gentle, so sad, an unwonted feeling of compunction seized him; he repented of his harshness, and added less brusquely:
“Why did you remain so late?”
“I did not realize how late it had become.”
“Your thoughts must have been very absorbing!” he exclaimed quickly, his brow once more overcast.
Not difficult was it for him to surmise upon whom her mind had been bent, and involuntarily his jaw set disagreeably, while he looked at her resentfully. In that light he could but dimly discern her face. Her bonnet had fallen from her head; her eyes were bent before her, as though striving to penetrate the gathering 377 darkness. With his sudden spell of jealousy came the temptation to clasp her in his arms in that silent, isolated place, but the figure of the sailor came between him and the desire, while pride, the heritage of the gentleman, fought down the longing. This self-conquest was not accomplished, however, without a sacrifice of temper, for after a pause, he observed:
“There is no accounting for a woman’s taste!”
She did not controvert this statement, but the start she gave told him the shaft had sped home.
“An outlaw! An outcast!” exclaimed the patroon, stung beyond endurance by his thoughts.
Still no reply; only more hurried footsteps! Around them sounded a gentle rustling; a lizard scrambled out of their path through the crackling leaves; a bat, or some other winged creature, suddenly whirred before them and vanished. They had now approached the gate, through which they passed and found themselves on the road leading directly to the city, whose lights had already begun to twinkle in the dusk.