“Yes,” said Hetty, turning away from him, “it was my wicked maid. Clavering laid the trap for you.”
The man sat very still a moment, and then bent with a swift resoluteness towards his companion.
“And you came to warn me?” he said. “Hetty, dear, look up.”
Hetty glanced at him and saw the glow in his eyes, but she clenched her hand, and would have struck the horse in an agony of fear if Larry had not touched him with his heel and swung a pace away from her.
“Oh,” she gasped, “why will you waste time! Larry, they will kill you if they find you.”
Once more the little scornful smile showed upon Grant’s lips, but it vanished and Hetty saw only the light in his eyes.
“Listen a moment, dear,” he said. “I have tried to do the square thing, but I think to-night’s work relieves me of the obligation. Hetty, can’t you see that your father would never give you to me, and you must choose between us sooner or later? I have waited a long while, and would try to wait longer if it would relieve you of the difficulty, but you will have to make the decision, and it can’t be harder now than it would be in the future. Promise me you will go back to New York with Miss Schuyler, and stay with her until I come for you.”
Hetty trembled visibly, and the moonlight showed the crimson in her cheeks; but she looked up at him bravely. “Larry,” she said, “you are sure—quite sure—you want me, and will be kind to me?”
The man bent his head solemnly. “My dear, I have longed for you for eight weary years—and I think you could trust me.”
“Then,” and Hetty’s voice was very uneven, though she still met his eyes. “Larry, you can take me now.”