For a while we chatted on ordinary subjects, and then, remounting our horses, we prepared to ride back. During this time I had felt entirely free from any of the strange influences I have described, and I began to wonder at it; especially so as Miss Forrest had voluntarily come to my side, and we had galloped away together.
We took a roundabout road to Temple Hall, and so were longer together, and again I was happy.
"I thought you were not coming," she said. "What in the world drew you away so suddenly?"
I tried to tell her, but I could not. Every time I began to speak of the influence Voltaire had exerted I was seemingly tongue-tied. No words would come.
"I was very sorry," I said at length, "but you did not want a companion.
Mr. Voltaire came."
"Yes, he overtook us. Is he not a wonderful man?"
"Yes," I said absently.
"I was so sorry you allowed yourself to be placed under his influence last night. Did you not hear me asking you to avoid having anything to do with him?"
"Yes," I said, "I am sorry. I was a coward."
"I do not understand him," she said. "He fascinates while he repels. One almost hates him, and yet one is obliged to admire him. No one could want him as a friend, while to make him an enemy would be terrible."