So we passed through this place of shadows, walking neither fast nor slow, and ever her cold fingers clasped my fingers, and her shoulder pressed my arm while she talked, and laughed, but of what, I know not, until we had left the dark place behind. Then she sighed deeply and turned, and drew her arm from mine, almost sharply, and stood looking back, with her two hands pressed upon her bosom.
"What is it?"
"Look!" she whispered, pointing, "there—where it is darkest—look!" Now, following the direction of her finger, I saw something that skulked amid the shadows—something that slunk away, and vanished as I watched.
"A man!" I exclaimed, and would have started in pursuit, but Charmian's hands were upon my arm, strong and compelling.
"Are you mad?" cried she angrily; "would you give him the opportunity I prevented? He was waiting there to—to shoot you, I think!"
And, after we had gone on some little way, I spoke.
"Was that why you—came to meet me?"
"Yes."
"And—kept so close beside me."
"Yes."