"The ear of love is quick," said Mr. Filmer. "I did not recognise it;" and in another moment Edgar Adelon stood beside them.
"I have been to the house," he said, "and they told me where to seek you."
"We are forced to go away for a time by some unpleasant circumstances, Mr. Adelon," said Clive, gravely.
"I know--I know it all," answered Edgar, quickly. "I watched the whole attack from the hill. It was a strange, ghastly sight, and I will not stop you, Mr. Clive, for it would be ruin to stay; but let me speak one word to dear Helen--but one word, and I will not keep you."
The father made no opposition; he knew what it was to love well, and he would not withhold the small drop of consolation from the bitter cup of parting. Edgar drew the fair girl a few steps aside, and they spoke together earnestly for a few minutes. He then pressed her hand affectionately in his, and each repeated "For ever!" Then leading her back towards the boat, against the sides of which the water was now rising, he shook Clive's hand warmly, saying, "God bless and protect you! Let me put her in the boat." And before any one could answer, he had lifted Helen tenderly in his arms, walked with her into the shallow water, and placed her in the little bark. Clive followed, after another word or two with Mr. Filmer; the boatmen pushed off, and the prow went glittering through the waves. Edgar Adelon stood and gazed, till Mr. Filmer touched him on the arm, saying, "Come, my son;" and then, with a deep sigh, the young man followed him towards the cliffs.
"I must go back to the Grange for my horse," said Edgar, as the priest was turning along the high road towards Brandon.
"Better send for it," said Mr. Filmer. "Your father has returned, and may inquire for you."
"It is strange," said Edgar, following him. "I could have sworn I saw his tall bay hunter among the people at Barhampton."
"You might well be mistaken," answered Mr. Filmer; "but whatever you saw, Edgar, take my advice, and say to no one that you saw anything--no, not to Eda."
Edgar did not reply, and the rest of their walk passed in silence till they reached the gates of the park. They were open, and a man was standing at the lodge door, with whom the priest paused to speak for an instant, while Edgar, at his request, walked on. Mr. Filmer overtook the young man ere he had gone a hundred yards, and as they approached the house, he said, "You had better go straight to your room, and to bed, Edgar. Unpleasant things have happened. Eda has retired, your father has another magistrate with him, and neither your presence nor mine will be agreeable."