Vane, who made no answer, strode away, and nobody saw any more of him for an hour or two.
He had her father’s consent, but he felt he could not plead his cause with Evelyn just then. With her parents on his side, she was at a disadvantage, and he shrank from the thought that she might be forced upon him against her will. This was not what he desired, and she might hate him for it afterwards. She was very alluring; there had been signs of an unusual gentleness in her manner, but he wanted time to win her favour, aided only by such gifts as he had been endowed with. It cost him a determined effort, but he made up his mind to wait.
[CHAPTER X—WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS.]
A week or two had slipped away since Vane’s eventful interview, when he lounged upon the terrace after breakfast chatting with Carroll.
Suddenly a long, faint howl came up the valley, and was answered by another in a deeper note. Then a confused swelling clamour, which slightly resembled the sound of chiming bells, broke out, softened by the distance. Carroll stopped and listened.
“What in the name of wonder is that?” he asked. “The first of it reminded me of a coyote howling, but the rest’s more like the noise the timber wolves make in the bush at night.”
“You haven’t made a bad shot,” Vane laughed. “It’s a pack of otter hounds hot upon the scent.”
The sound ceased as suddenly as it had begun, but a few moments later Mabel came running towards the men.
“I knew the hounds met at Patten Brig, but Jim was sure they’d go down-stream,” she cried breathlessly. “They’re coming up, and I think they’re at the pool below the village. Get two poles—you’ll find some in the tool-shed—and come along at once.”
She clambered into the house through a window, calling for Evelyn, and Carroll smiled.