“Why do we stop?” I asked.
“Why do we stop? Why don’t you—” She laid her hand lightly upon my shoulder. “Why don’t you kiss me?”
I started back suddenly. My companion burst into the happiest, merriest peal of laughter I ever heard.
“What a coward. I shall tell Pierre.”
With that she snatched off her mask. To my astonishment, I saw the dancing black eyes of my mistress’ maid, Annetje Dorn.
CHAPTER XVIII
ANOTHER SECRET BURIAL
My astonishment was so complete that several minutes passed before I could find voice enough to ask what this deception meant. Annetje soon quieted her laughter and was ready to explain.
“My dear mistress,” she began, “is an angel out of heaven. She is always making chances for me to see Pierre. To-day, when she would not go to Yorke with you, I begged her to let me go in her place. She is so sweet. She can never bear to say ‘no’ to anything unless someone does wrong.”
Annetje indicated what would happen then by a disconsolate shrug of her shoulders.
“I don’t know why she should have taken such a liking to you. I dare say now, if you had been here longer—oh, I don’t mean that at all. I think you are very—very—Shall we ride towards Yorke?”