But she retreated with such a movement that he stopped again.
"What's the matter?" he questioned. "Why do you look so?—This is scarce the welcome I had imagined."
"Why are you here?" she asked, in a low voice, regarding him steadily. "How did you come? What does it mean?"
"It means I love you so much, I could stay no longer from seeing you. I came by horse, boat, and foot. I passed the British sentries."
"You risked your life, then?"
"Oh, of course. If they caught me inside their lines, they would hang me as a spy. But—"
She could not but be touched at this. "Poor Philip!" she murmured, with a tremor in her voice.
"Not poor," said he, "now that I am with you—if you would not draw back, and look so. What is wrong? Am I—unwelcome?"
She saw that, to be true to her design, to her elaborate plan for the future, she must not soften toward him—for his reappearance, with the old-time boyish look and manner, the fond expression now wistful and alarmed, the tender eyes now startled and affrighted, revived much that had been dormant in her heart, and made Captain Falconer seem a very far-off and casual person. Against the influence of Philip's presence, and the effect of his having so imperilled himself to see her, she had to arm herself with coldness, or look upon the success of her project as going for naught to her advantage. She dared not contemplate the forfeit; so she hardened her heart.
"Why," she said, with a forced absence of feeling, "so many years have passed—so many things have happened—you appear so much a stranger—"