He glanced at the tiny pocket compass attached to his watch-chain, and started off once more in a fresh direction, one which he knew would bring him out on the road near Lindham. The path he soon found was one evidently rarely used, and deliciously soft and mossy to his feet, as, refreshed by his nap, he went steadily on, following the windings till he stopped short wonderingly, surprised by eye and ear, for as he went round a sudden turn it was to find himself within a yard or two of a girl seated on the mossy ground, her arms clasping her knees, and her face bent down upon them, sobbing as if her heart would break.
“My good girl,” cried the chivalrous major eagerly.
Before he could say more, the woman’s head was raised, so that in the glance he obtained he saw that she was young, dark and handsome, in spite of her red and swollen eyes, dishevelled, dark hair, and countenance generally disfigured by a passionate burst of crying.
For a moment the girl seemed about to bound up and run; but she checked the impulse, clasped her knees once more, and hid her face upon them.
“Why, I ought to know your face,” said the major. “Mr Rolph’s keeper’s daughter, if I am not mistaken?”
There was no reply, only a closer hiding of the face, and a shiver.
“Can I do anything for you?” said the major kindly. “Is anything the matter?”
“No. Go away!” cried the girl in low, muffled tones.
“But you are in trouble.”
“Go away!” cried the girl fiercely; and this she reiterated so bitterly that the major shrugged his shoulders and moved off a step or two.