The girl looked round into the wood, and visibly trembling, said--"I don't like it at all. Suppose some one were to see us at the station, what would they think? Oh, Frank, let us go back."
She stopped just opposite where I stood, and looking straight through me, cried--"It is horrible here! There is something there!" And she stretched out her arm and pointed to where I stood, and her hand seemed to go into my heart and cut me as though her outstretched finger had been a poignard.
The man turned, and they both stood facing me. "Don't be foolish!" he said, looking, however, somewhat scared. "There is nothing but a light patch where the moonlight falls through the opening in the trees."
"I thought for a moment," the girl replied, "that Alan Sydney was standing quite close to us."
Vancome laughed. "I fancied you meant a ghost," he replied. "It would be a new experience to see the spirit of a living man, who probably at the same time is enjoying himself behind the scenes of some London theatre. Take my word for it, Sydney's spirit is not likely to forsake the limelight goddess to come wandering after the moonlight one. But we shall miss our train if you stand looking for ghosts, and it will not take us long now to get out of this wood if we walk quickly."
As they passed the girl said--"You are quite sure we shall have no difficulty about the licence when we get to Liverpool?" But the man's reply was lost in the distance, and the scene vanished.
Then there was, as it seemed, a long pause of darkness, till all of a sudden I found myself in a brightly lighted room alone. I went to the window and looked out upon a big city; the church clock struck the hour of eight, and the streets were full of clerks and workpeople, evidently on their way to business; a newsboy was shouting out, "Post!"--"Mercury!"
While standing thus wondering, the door behind me opened, and some persons entered the room. I tried to turn round and look at them, but could not. The man, whom I recognized by his voice as Vancome, said---"Yes, this will do very well, get some breakfast for two as soon as possible. We shall not stop the night, as we leave this evening by the nine o'clock boat for America."
While listening to these words I became conscious that I was asleep, and that for some reason it was most important for me to get up at once. I struggled to open my eyes, to turn, or do anything to rouse myself. At last with a desperate effort I struck out my arm, and hitting it smartly against some object, awoke.
"Well," said Sydney, "as we have had some rest, I will go on with my story. You have just seen what passed whilst I lay unconscious in my room; and it was a little after eight on the following morning that I awoke with an effort similar to that which you have just experienced, only of course the scenes affected me far more than they did you; and I roused myself with the distinct intention of hastening to Liverpool, and trying if possible to rescue the girl.