"Well, then, let us walk in the garden for a little," said Sir Robert; "it is curious, in some respects, having been laid out long before this house was built, antiquated as it is."
Sir Edward Digby assented, but looked round for Zara, as he certainly thought her society would be a great addition to her father's. She had not yet returned to the room, however; and Sir Robert, as if he divined his young companion's feelings, requested his sister to tell her niece, when she came, that he and their guest were walking in the garden. "It is one of her favourite spots, Sir Edward," he continued, as they went out, "and many a meditative hour she spends there; for, gay as she is, she has her fits of thought, too."
The young baronet internally said, "Well she may, in this house!" but making a more civil answer to his entertainer, he followed him to the garden; and so well and even cheerfully did Sir Robert Croyland keep up the conversation, so learnedly did he descant upon the levelling and preservation of turf in bowling-greens, and upon the clipping of old yew-trees--both before and after Zara joined them--that Digby began to doubt, notwithstanding all he had heard, whether he could really have such a load upon his heart as he himself had stated to Edith, and to fancy that, after all, it might be a stratagem to drive her to compliance with his wishes.
A little incident, of no great moment in the eyes of any one but a very careful observer of his fellow-men--and Digby was far more so than he seemed--soon settled the doubt. As they were passing under an old wall of red brick--channelled by time and the shoots of pears and peaches--which separated the garden from the different courts, a door suddenly opened behind them, just after they had passed it; and while Sir Edward's eyes were turned to the face of the master of the house, Sir Robert's ear instantly caught the sound, and his cheek became as pale as ashes.
"There is some dark terror there!" thought the young officer; but, turning to Zara, he finished the sentence he had been uttering, while her father's coachman, who was the person that had opened the door, came forward to say that one of the horses had returned.
"Returned!" exclaimed Sir Robert Croyland; "has been brought back, I suppose you mean?"
"Ay, Sir Robert," replied the man; "a fellow from the lone house by Iden Green brought him; and in a sad state the poor beast is. He's got a cut, like with a knife, all down his shoulder."
"Your dragoon swords are sharp, Sir Edward," said the old baronet, gaily, to his guest; "however, I will go and see him myself, and rejoin you here in a minute."
"I am so glad to have a moment alone," cried Zara, as soon as her father was gone, "that you must forgive me if I use it directly. I am going to ask you a favour, Sir Edward. You must take me a ride, and lend me a horse. I have just had a message from poor Harry Leyton; he wishes to see me, but I am afraid to go alone, with so many soldiers about."
"Are they such terrible animals?" asked her companion, with a smile, adding, however, "I shall be delighted, if your father will consent; for I have already told him that I am going to Woodchurch this afternoon."