Rachel was trembling, and yet there was a bold, almost defiant look on her face; she looked so like Rupert that Phil’s whole heart was drawn to her.
“You must do what you wish, of course,” he said. “Do you see that giant oak tree at the top of the glade? You can stand there and you can peep your head well round. See, let’s come to it. See, Rachel, you have a splendid view of the cottage from here. Now I will go and try if I can get any tidings of Gabrielle’s tankard. Good-by, Rachel. Remember your promise not to come any nearer.”
Phil ran lightly away, and Rachel saw him go into the little rose-covered porch of the cottage.
He raised the tiny knocker, and in a moment or two Nancy White answered his summons.
“Is the lady—the lady of the forest in, Nancy?” asked the little boy.
“The lady! Bless my heart, if this ain’t Master Phil Lovel! Well, my dear little gentleman, and what may you want?”
“I want the lady. Can I see her? Perhaps she would come out to walk with me for a little, for I want to talk to her on a most important thing.”
“Bless you, my dear, the lady ain’t at home, and if she were she don’t go taking walks at anybody’s bidding. She’s particular and retiring in her ways, the lady is, and when she’s at home she keeps at home.”
“I’m sorry she’s not at home to-day,” said Phil, leaning against the porch and getting back his breath slowly. “It’s a great disappointment, for I find it very difficult to come so far, and what I wanted to say was really important. Good-by, Nancy. Give my love to the lady when you see her.”
“Don’t go yet, Master Philip. You’re looking very white. I hope you’re quite strong, sir.”