“It is very kind of you,” she answered, with hesitation; “but I was in no danger—I got down quite easily.”
Again Captain Graves paused. He was puzzled. The girl’s voice was as sweet as her person,—low and rich in tone—but she spoke with a slight Eastern-counties accent. Who and what was she?
“Then I must apologise for troubling you, Miss—Miss——?”
“I am only Joan Haste of Bradmouth, sir,” she interrupted confusedly, as though she guessed his thoughts.
“Indeed! and I am Captain Graves of Rosham—up there, you know. Bradmouth is—I mean, is the view good from that tower?”
“I think so; but I did not go up to look at it. I went to try to get those young jackdaws. I wanted them for a little boy in Bradmouth, the clergyman’s son.”
“Ah!” he said, his face lighting up, for he saw an opportunity of prolonging the acquaintance, which interested him not a little; “then perhaps I may be of service after all. I think that I can help you there.” And he stepped towards the tower.
“I don’t believe that it is quite safe, sir,” said Joan, in some alarm; “please do not take the trouble,”—and she stretched out her hand as though to detain him.
“Oh, it is no trouble at all, I assure you: I like climbing. You see, I am well accustomed to it. Once I climbed the second Pyramid, the one with the casing on it, though I won’t try that again,” he replied, with a pleasant laugh. And before she could interfere further he was mounting the broken stair.
At the top of it Henry halted, surveying the crumbling slope of wall doubtfully. Then he took his coat off, threw it down into the churchyard, and rolled his shirt sleeves up above his elbows, revealing a pair of very powerful and fair-skinned arms.