Her voice was low and pleading, her eyes an appeal; and Brant could not resist the impulse to comfort.
"Then attempt no explanation," he said, gently, "and believe me, I shall continue to trust you. To-night, whatever your wish may be, I will abide by it. Shall I go, or stay? In either case you have nothing to fear."
She drew a deep breath, these open words of faith touching her more strongly than would any selfish fault-finding.
"Trust begets trust," she replied, with new firmness, and now gazing frankly into his face. "You can walk with me a portion of the way if you wish, but I am going to tell you the truth,—I have an appointment with a man."
"I naturally regret to learn this," he said, with assumed calmness. "But the way is so lonely I prefer walking with you until you have some other protector."
She accepted his proffered arm, feeling the constraint in his tone, the formality in his manner, most keenly. An older woman might have resented it, but it only served to sadden and embarrass her. He began speaking of the quiet beauty of the night, but she had no thought of what he was saying.
"Lieutenant Brant," she said, at last, "you do not ask me who the man is."
"Certainly not, Miss Naida; it is none of my business."
"I think, perhaps, it might be; the knowledge might help you to understand. It is Bob Hampton."
He stared at her. "The gambler? No wonder, then, your meeting is clandestine."