ROBERT AND LUCIA
Two days passed, and neither any word nor his gold having come from the Grayson cottage, Prescott began to feel bold again and decided that he would call there openly and talk once more with Miss Grayson. He waited until the night was dusky, skies and stars alike obscured by clouds, and then knocked boldly at the door, which was opened by Miss Grayson herself. "Captain Prescott!" she exclaimed, and he heard a slight rustling in the room. When he entered Miss Catherwood was there. Certainly they had a strange confidence in him.
She did not speak, nor did he, and there was an awkward silence while Miss Grayson stood looking on. Prescott waited for the thanks, the hint of gratitude that he wished to hear, but it was not given; and while he waited he looked at Miss Catherwood with increasing interest, beholding her now in a new phase.
Hitherto she had always seemed to him bold and strong, a woman of more than feminine courage, one with whom it would require all the strength and resource of a man to deal even on the man's own ground. Now she was of the essence feminine. She sat in a low chair, her figure yielding a little and her face paler than he had ever seen it before. The lines were softened and her whole effect was that of an appeal. She made him think for a moment of Helen Harley.
"I am glad that our soldiers did not find you here when they searched this house," he said awkwardly.
"You were here with them, Captain Prescott—I have heard," she replied.
"It was pure chance," he said. "I did not come here to help them."
"I do not think that Captain Prescott was assisting in the search," interposed Miss Grayson. Prescott again looked for some word or sign of gratitude, but did not find it.
"I have wondered, Miss Catherwood, how you hid yourself," he said.