"I didn't know—how could I have known? Have I hurt her?"
"It seems our fate," he answered bitterly.
"I couldn't help it. There was no time to think. Something is very wrong. Rasaldû was missed yesterday. Then Meredith—and there was no one at the bridge. I came as fast I could—to warn you——"
He drew himself up painfully.
"It's no good. We can't leave here. You'd better go back to Gaya." He glanced quickly at her. Her ethereal pallor, the look of wan spirituality, smote him to the heart, and yet he spoke roughly. "You ought never to have come. Why didn't you return to Gaya at once?"
"He sent me," she said simply, like a child that has been reproached.
"He knew that Anne was here," he muttered. His eyes returned to the white, still face of his wife, as though he saw her for the first time. Sigrid's answer seemed to him no more than the whisper of his own thoughts.
"Perhaps I should have come anyhow."
"You won't be strong enough to ride back."
"Oh—yes—I am quite strong. It's as you said, Major Tristram—I think I shall live to be quite old."