"And the other?" Madeline's heart beat fast, for an idea had suddenly seized her mind.
"He was a young man, tall, and straight as an arrow."
"And did he have dark-brown eyes?" she questioned.
"I believe he did. As a rule I am not good at remembering such things. I noticed his, however, for they were so full of trouble, and looked as if they had not closed in sleep for several nights."
"And his hair, was it dark and wavy?"
"It was dark, but soaked with water, as were his clothes."
"And you did not ask him his name," she mused. "That was strange. Were you not curious to know?"
"As I said before, there was little time for that. Besides," and here he hesitated, "we learn in the North not to ask too many questions."
Madeline noted his hesitation, and glanced quickly up. What did he mean? she mentally asked herself. What did his words signify? There was something about this tall, reserved man which filled her with confidence. He was so different from many she had met. He seemed to belong to another world from the one which had been hers for years. It brought back memories of other days. A mistiness filled her eyes, and despite her efforts tears flowed down her cheeks. She tried to repress her emotion, but in vain. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed like a child, while the man looked at her in wonderment. At length she brushed away the tears, and tried to smile.