"Oh, Clay, it is my father! He will kill me if he finds I am with you!"
"Never fear, darling, he will not hurt you," murmured Poynter, as he drew the trembling form closer to his side.
"No, no, Clay; but you—oh, leave me!"
"What, I run, and from one man?"
"Nora—I say, Nora; why don't you answer me?" impatiently called the voice, and the footsteps ceased, as if her father was listening.
"For my sake!" pleaded the maiden.
"For your sake—well," and with one fervent kiss, Clay Poynter vanished among the undergrowth.
"Nora—Nora!"
"Yes, father," she tremblingly answered.
"Oh, so here you are!" said Neil McGuire, as he entered the little glade. "Why didn't you speak before? Ha! who has been here with you?" he added, at the same time bending over the moist ground.