We went carefully over the rocks and in a short while the dim bulk of the wall rose before us. I descended, preceding her, found the opening and went through it.
"You're not going any further with me," she commanded in a suppressed tone. "I forbid it."
I rose on the other side of the grille and dusted my knees.
"I should be sorry to disobey your commands," I said firmly, "but the dangers of the woods at night—"
"Oh! How I abominate you!"
"Really? I am sorry."
But she followed me through the aperture and I led the way down a path, which seemed fairly well worn, alongside the wall.
"Of course, your real name isn't Smith," I began again in a moment. And then after waiting in vain for a reply: "Are you staying with the Laidlaws? The Carews? The Van Wycks then? You won't tell me? Oh, very well, I'll inquire."
My threat brought her to her senses.
"You wouldn't do that!" she said in an agonized tone, catching me by the arm.