She indicated a place where the wood thinned a little, and turning with her, he fell into step at her side, and waited for her to begin, wondering what she might have to say to him. Half a minute passed in silence, then she began abruptly: “You will have heard that we are starting for England tomorrow?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Mr. Rayner told me. The decision is rather sudden, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “The journey is a quite unexpected one, just now. We had thought of waiting until the ice broke up and of canoeing down the river. But a letter has just come from Sir Joseph—Mr. Rayner’s father—stating that my presence is required in England at the earliest possible moment. The letter has been delayed, and Mr. Rayner tells me that it is requisite that we should start at once.”
“The business must be very urgent if you have to start on such a long journey at a day’s notice,” commented the corporal.
“It is not altogether that,” was the reply, “though Mr. Rayner insists that it is imperative that we shall make an early start. The truth is—” she broke off, and then resumed in a quavering voice: “I am much upset by that mysterious affair of last night, and, Mr. Bracknell, I am afraid—horribly afraid.”
“Of what?” he asked, looking into her beautiful face to find it white and tense with emotion.
“Of my—my—of Dick Bracknell,” she answered quietly.
“But if he is dead, what—”
“Do you think he is dead?” she cried sharply. “Tell me, Mr. Bracknell, what do you really think?”
“Last night,” he answered slowly, “I had no doubt whatever about it. But today—”