She lay prone, while the surging currents of her nerves slowly settled themselves and adjusted their balance. Her sense of outward things came back to her by degrees. The fine cold air flowed through the little casement with the sunshine. Wheels crunched upon the gravel below; a dog barked; someone spoke; in the distance a cow lowed. The world went on as usual, lapt in afternoon, rural peace. But from her skies the sun had dropped. The nightmare that had pursued her for years was now beside her in bodily shape, dogging her steps. Mestaer had come back.
How came it that she had not known? She answered herself bitterly that it was because she had trusted Carol Mayne, and he had allowed her to be deceived. Not for one moment did she now doubt Captain Brooke's identity. The marvel was that she had not detected him at once.
This had been the first time of her looking at him, he being unconscious of the fact of her observation; and in that moment he had betrayed himself, she could not have told how.
And now in what a net was she caught! The thought of the man's persistency turned her cold. She was committed to his acquaintance, involved in a business transaction with him—he was going to Ilbersdale. Even in Fransdale she should not be safe from him! And Carol Mayne had connived at this betrayal!
It did not take her long to form a decision on one point; namely, that her only hope lay in going on as if nothing had happened.
Surely she was capable of that! She, the self-contained, self-reliant professional woman!
Reaction had set in. Passionate anger, active defiance succeeded fear. It was quite simple, after all. She had stolen a march upon the conspirators and surprised their plans. It was the best thing that could have happened. She knew now what to guard against—could avoid intimacy and repel advances.
Springing from the bed, she dashed water into the basin, bathed her hot forehead, and was once more her own mistress, all her spirit, all her force, summoned up to defend her liberty.
She peeped from the window. Captain Brooke stood waiting by the trap below. His attitude betrayed a subdued impatience. Undoubtedly he was much changed—completely altered from the man she had known. There was real excuse for her non-recognition. But that he should have imagined that such an incognito could be sustained! No wonder he had betrayed nervousness that morning when he faced the idea of a day alone with her!
Well, they were equals now! He knew, and she knew. If she could prevent his knowing that she knew, all would be well.