“It is some one who has come nearly all the way from Greenhithe behind us. Perhaps they are not following—but again——”
“They?” she said; “there is only one.”
“There are three,” he answered; “at least; the other two are on the turf at the side—but just before the village I heard all three of them—or rather certainly more than two—when they were between those two walls where there was no turf.”
Isabel was staring at him with great frightened eyes. He smiled back at her tranquilly.
“Ah, Isabel!” he said, “there is nothing really to fear, in any case.”
“What shall you do?” she asked, making a great effort to control herself.
“I think we must find out first of all whether they are after us. We must certainly not ride straight to the Manor Lodge if it is so.”
Then he explained his plan.
“See here,” he said, holding the map before her as he rode, “we shall come to Fawkham Green in five minutes. Then our proper road leads straight on to Ash, but we will take the right instead, towards Eynsford. Meanwhile, I will leave Robert here, hidden by the side of the road, to see who these men are, and what they look like; and we will ride on slowly. When they have passed, he will come out and take the road we should have taken, and he then will turn off to the right too before he reaches Ash; and by trotting he will easily come up with us at this corner,” and he pointed to it on the map—“and so he will tell us what kind of men they are; and they will never know that they have been spied upon; for, by this plan, he will not have to pass them. Is that a good plot?” and he smiled at her.
Isabel assented, feeling dazed and overwhelmed. She could hardly bring her thoughts to a focus, for the fears that had hovered about her ever since they had left Lancashire and come down to the treacherous south, had now darted upon her, tearing her heart with terror and blinding her eyes, and bewildering her with the beating of their wings.