"Please, don't...." For one instant the coldly even voice had a tiny inflection in it, as of humour, though he stifled it immediately, as he turned to Meryl and said, gravely, with a bow, "Miss Pym, I think?... A letter has come for you from Edwardstown by runner. I brought it on in case you might wish to send a reply, and to enquire if you are quite comfortable here for the night."
Meryl took it from him, thanking him in her low, sweet voice, and with a rather shy, upward glance. And Diana, in the shadow, saw the soldier suddenly flinch and suddenly grow sterner, standing in an attitude of almost unnatural rigidity.
"There is no heed to reply," Meryl said, after reading her note. "It is only a message from father to say he may be detained until afternoon. Thank you so much for bringing it. Won't you sit down? Can I offer you anything? I'm afraid there is not much choice. Father does not like luxuries in the wilderness, and we only carry whisky."
"No, thank you." The tones were even again now, and he made no movement towards a chair. "Have you everything you need for the night? I hope Mr. Stanley has made himself very useful?"
"He has been splendid. I am only afraid we have tired him out. Won't you sit down?" and she shyly motioned to a chair.
"Thank you. I'm afraid I must get back. I have some despatches to write. Would you like a police-boy to keep guard here all night? There is nothing whatever to fear, but if it would add to your comfort?..."
"O no, thank you," warmly. "We are not in the least nervous. I think there are no lions very near," with a little laugh.
Diana, lying back in her chair, had scarcely taken her eyes off the tall soldier, though she watched him covertly, and without seeming to; and her quick brain perceived dimly that his aloof attitude was partly a mask which had become a habit, and that, however much he suppressed her, there was nothing whatever repellant about his chilly reserve. And then, suddenly, the little mischievous devil possessed her again, and she longed to try her arts upon him, just to see what happened, and to show him she was not seriously in the least afraid of him.
And no sooner had Meryl remarked that there were no lions near them, than she could not for the life of her help murmuring, "No lions, only bears."
Again there was an instant's answering gleam in Carew's eyes, but he only smiled very slightly, and said, "Perhaps a bear's growl, like a dog's bark, is worse than his bite."