"On me?"
"Yes. In this way. I could not think of remaining here unless the thought of it were pleasing to you. I am a lonely man, signorina, a man whose friends have either died or disappeared, and the thought of living in the same neighbourhood as yourself brings joy to me; but I would not do so, unless the scheme had your approbation."
They had by this time come to the road which led down the hill towards Vale Linden, and Olive was turning towards it, when Ricordo put out his hands as if to stop her.
"Pardon me," he said, "there is another path to Vale Linden. It is a little longer; it leads over the moors, and it is very beautiful. May I plead with you to take the longer road?"
Almost without demur, she consented. Although she did not realise it, the man had again exercised a kind of fascination over her. For the moment his will became hers. As for the man, he too seemed more than ordinarily interested. There was a tone of pleading and of intensity in his voice which she had never heard before. He was revealing himself in a new light.
"Thank you," he said, as they walked along the moorland path; "I almost hope that your consent to take the longer path augurs well for my plan. For your English life possesses a kind of charm for me, signorina. Yes, I who have known the East with its mystery, its great silent spaces, and its wondrous life, confess it. It has taught me the meaning of your English word 'home.' And I have never known it in practice, signorina—never."
"Still, I should think your life in the East must be very fascinating?"
A strange expression flashed across his face, but the smile on his lips was hidden by his thick moustache.
"Fascinating, great Allah, yes! I should like to tell you of it some time, signorina—the story of my life. It would interest you; yes, I promise you that it would interest you. It would take a long time, I am afraid, but you would listen, yes, you would listen to the very end."
He spoke quietly, but there was an intensity in his tone, and as he spoke Olive's heart began to beat more rapidly. Again she was reminded of Leicester, the man she had once promised to marry, and who had died more than six years before. She almost felt afraid, for it seemed to her that he was about to reveal some terrible secret. More than that, his personality impressed her, just as Leicester's did in the old days.