But while he stood there, indifferent to the whole earth about him, a little sound of the most trivial character suddenly caught his ear, and made every nerve tingle. It was a sound no more important than the click of the latch of the cottage door. Had she heard him, then, though he was not aware of having made any sound? Had she divined him with a mind so much more sensitive than that of ordinary mankind? He stood holding his breath, listening for her step, imagining it to himself, the little skim along the pavement, the touch when she paused, firm yet so light. He heard it in his thoughts, in anticipation: but in reality that was not what he heard. Something else sounded in his ears which made his veins swell and his heart bound, yet not with pleasure—a voice which seemed to affront the stillness and offend the night, a voice without any softness or grace either of tone or words—something alive and hostile to every feeling in his heart, and which seemed to Walter’s angry fancy to jar upon the very air. And then there followed a sound of steps; they were coming to the gate. She was with him, accompanying him, seeing him off. Was it possible? Walter made a step forward and clinched his fist; he then changed his mind and drew back.
“Anyhow, you’ll think it over,” said the voice of the man whom he had met on the road. “It’s a good offer. It ain’t every day you’ll get as good. A good blow-out and a good breakfast, and all that, would suit me just as well as you. I ain’t ashamed of what I’m doing; and you’d look stunning in a veil and all that. But what’s the good of making a fuss? It’s fun, too, doing a thing on the sly.”
And was it her voice that replied?
“Yes, it’s fun. I don’t mind that, not a bit. I should just like to see it put on the stage. You and me coming in, and your mother’s look. Oh, her look! that’s what fetches me!”
It could not be her, not her! and yet the voice was hers; and the subdued peal of laughter had in it a tone which he had felt to thrill the air with delight on other occasions; but not now. The man laughed more harshly, more loudly; and then they appeared at the gate in the moonlight. He so near them, unable to stir without betraying himself, was invisible in the gloom. But the light caught a great white shawl in which she had muffled herself, and made a sort of reflection in the tall shiny hat.
They stood for a minute there, almost within reach of his hand.
“Don’t you stand chattering,” she said; “it’s time for your train; and I tell you it’s a mile off, and you’ll have to run.”
“There’s plenty of time,” said he. “I should just like to know who was that young spark that sent me off out of my way to-day. I believe it’s some one that’s sweet upon you too, and as you’re holding in hand—”
“Nonsense,” she said, “I see nobody here.”
“Oh, tell that to—them that knows no better; see nobody; only every fellow about that’s worth looking at; as if I didn’t know your little ways!”