"I'll go," she mentally cried. "I wish I had not come. I--hope--Mr. Smith's--not looking out, or he will see me!" she added, slowly and dubiously.
The doubt caused her to stay where she was and strain her eyes at the opposite cottage. Was it fancy? One of the windows stood open, and she thought she saw a head and eyes peeping from it. Peeping, not openly looking.
"He must have seen me come!" decided Miss Blake. "But surely he'd not know me, wrapped up like this! Hark!"
A very slight sound had dawned upon her ear. Was it Sir Karl advancing? Surely the sound was that of footsteps! At the same moment, there arose another and separate sound; and that was close to her, inside the gates by which she stood.
"Some one must be coming out!" breathed Miss Blake. "It's getting complicated. I wish I was safe away. Two pairs of eyes may see what one would not."
Sir Karl Andinnian--for the footsteps were his--advanced. Very quietly and cautiously. Miss Blake could see that he had changed his dress coat for another, which he had buttoned round him, though the night was close. Halting at the gate he drew the key from his pocket as before, unlocked it, and passed in. Some one met him.
"Karl! I am so glad you have come! I thought you would! I knew you had returned."
It was a soft, sweet voice: the same voice, Miss Blake could have laid a wager on it, that had sung "When lovely woman stoops to folly." Their hands met: she was sure of that. Perhaps their lips also: but she could not see.
"Why, how did you know I was back?" he asked. "Oh, Ann came to the gate to answer a ring, and saw you pass by from the station."
"Why are you out here!" he resumed. "Is it prudent!"