“You must hurry to the Horst,” she said, impatiently. “You know it? The large house behind those trees. They will pay you. You must explain that an accident has occurred, not fatal. And bring back assistance at once.”
She returned hastily to Otto. His eyes were open, and they smiled to welcome her. A terrible anxiety suddenly died out of them.
“Are you not hurt?” he said, faintly. “I’m not. I shall get up presently.”
She could not answer except by a shake of the head. A lump had risen in her throat which she was resolved to keep down.
“How sorry Gerald will be!” continued Otto.
She nodded again, and for a few minutes they were both quite silent. Then the Jonker raised himself on one arm.
“I am only dizzy,” he said. “I shall be all right in no time, I assure you. I’m sorry I frightened you. Why, there are some people coming along, are there not?”
It was true; the men from the cottages could be seen running towards them. Otto hesitated, as he sank back, gazing up into Ursula’s bent face.
“Ursula,” he said at last, calling her by her name for the second time in the course of that evening, “we very nearly went to our death together—and you wouldn’t even go to Java!”
There was a ripple in his voice and in his eyes. She held out her hand, and he pressed it to his lips.