There was no need of an explanation where those three were concerned, and I made none. No one referred to Monsieur Voisin, his visit, or his interest in the Trent disappearance, and nothing was said for a time concerning the letter which was foremost in Miss Jenrys' mind and in mine.
For half an hour I conversed with Miss Ross and left the lovers to an uninterrupted chat; at the end of that time Lossing took his leave. As yet he had heard but the briefest outlines of the Trent affair; but in spite of my own request that he would remain and make one at our councils, he withdrew, declaring himself under orders to keep early hours.
I let him go without uneasiness, for was not Dave Brainerd lurking somewhere very near, and very much to be relied upon?
He had said good-bye to the little Quakeress in the back parlour, and then Miss Jenrys and myself had walked with him the length of the two small rooms, bidding him goodnight at the door.
As the street-door was heard to close behind him, Miss Jenrys turned to me, caught my arm, and said quickly, beseechingly:
'Mr. Masters, won't you follow him home? I—I have a strange feeling that he is not safe. It is not far, and it is early. Can you not come back—please?
There was no hesitation, no blushes; she spoke like a woman forgetful of self in her anxiety for another; and when I told her that my friend was doubtless awaiting him, she only wrung her hands.
'He may not be now. It is so early, and I shall not feel at ease until I know. Mr. Masters, I am sure there is danger very near us; I feel it. Won't you go—and come back when all is safe?'