It lasted for a full hour; then Lyttleton rose and stood before the woman, talking and gesticulating with great earnestness. He seemed to be vehemently urging some request which she was inclined to deny; at length he drew out a silken purse full of broad gold pieces which glittered in the moonlight as he held it up.
"Promise me," he said, "and this is yours; keep your promise till I see you again and it shall be doubled."
"Give it me then," she cried, stretching out an eager hand.
"You promise?"
"Yes, yes; why not?"
He dropped it into her open palm, saying impressively, "Remember. Now, good-bye," and turned exultingly to go on his way.
"Stay," she cried.
"Well, what more?" he asked facing her again, "is it not enough?"
"Yes; but you have not told me who you are, or why you—"
"It does not matter; all you have to do is to follow my directions," he interrupted somewhat haughtily, and strode rapidly away.