“Sir!” I remarked, with a step toward him, my hand on my sword, “who, and what are you, that you dare to come----”
I might as well have been a thousand miles away, for all the heed he paid to me.
“I have found you, then,” he said to Lucille, with a sneer on his face and in his tones. She shrank back farther and farther into the darkness.
I half drew my sword out, determined to punish his insolence speedily, but, with never a look at me, making a low, sweeping bow, that included both of us, he leaped into the saddle, and was away down the road in the darkness at a terrific pace.
“Who was he?” I demanded, turning to Lucille. She put her hands before her eyes, as if to shut out some sight that was hateful to her.
“He was--he was----” she began, her voice trembling. “Oh, Edward, mind him not. I thought he was some one I had left behind me forever. But I must have been mistaken. The candle light played me tricks.”
“But his words? What of them? What meant he?” I persisted.
“I heard nothing that he said,” she replied, as if in surprise, “but what of your message?”
“WHO, AND WHAT ARE YOU, THAT YOU DARE TO COME!”