“He’s at the bottom of the garden. He’ll come up here. He won’t wait. Go down and meet him.”
“But——”
“Go down! I’ll hide among the trees. Let him come up here, or bring him up. He must come. Be sure he comes inside. While you go I’ll light the lamp. I can do it in a moment. You couldn’t sleep. You came here to read. Of course you know nothing about me. Keep him here for five or ten minutes. You can come down then and help him to look for me. Go at once.”
She took away her hand.
“My whole future depends upon you!”
Dion got up and went out. As he went he heard her strike a match.
Scarcely knowing for a moment what he was doing, acting mechanically, in obedience to instinct, but always feeling a sort of terrible driving force behind him, he traversed the terrace on which the pavilion stood, passed the great plane tree and the wooden seat, and began to descend. As he did so he heard again Jimmy’s voice crying:
“Mater!”
“Jimmy!” he called out, in a loud voice, hurrying on.
As the sound died away he knew it had been nonchalant. Surely she had made it so!