"Peter!—oh, Peter!" called the voice again, seemingly from the road, and now I thought it sounded familiar.
Charmian stole her arms about my neck.
"I think it is Simon," said I uneasily; "what can have brought him?
And he will never venture down into the Hollow on account of the ghost;
I must go and see what he wants."
"Yes, Peter," she murmured, but the clasp of her arms tightened.
"What is it?" said I, looking into her troubled eyes. "Charmian, you are trembling!—what is it?"
"I don't know—but oh, Peter! I feel as if a shadow—a black and awful shadow were creeping upon us hiding—us from each other. I am very foolish, aren't I? and this our wedding-day!"
"Peter! Pe-ter!"
"Come with me, Charmian; let us go together."
"No, I must wait—it is woman's destiny—to wait—but I am brave again; go—see what is wanted."
I found Simon, sure enough, in the lane, seated in his cart, and his face looked squarer and grimmer even than usual.