“Why should I be?” she answered. “It was evidently you the assassin was after.”
He winced at the word “assassin,” and did not reply. The two stood gazing silently out onto the stretch of lawn in front of the house. Presently José sighed deeply.
“I am afraid you are unhappy,” said Bab sympathetically.
“Madamoiselle Barbara,” he replied, “I am in great trouble. I tell you because you have already been more observing than the others, and because I see you keep your counsel.”
“Why don’t you ask Major Ten Eyck’s advice, José?” asked Barbara, “he is so kind and gentle. I know he would love to help you.”
“In this case,” replied the Spaniard, with a frightened look in his eyes, “he might not be so kind. I am afraid to tell him. To-night I shall decide what to do. It may be that it would be better to go away. I cannot tell, now.”
“Tell me, José, have your troubles any connection with the Gypsies?”
“Yes,” he assented.
A shadowy figure moved up the lawn and approached the house. José stirred uneasily.
“Who is that?” he whispered. “Don’t you think you had better go in?”