“Perhaps I won’t,” returned that gentleman, who was unaccustomed to so direct an order.
Eliphalet did not deign to reply, but he turned aside from the road and stepped briskly down the steep and wooded path. The moon shone serenely, casting dark violet shadows of the trees upon the grey undergrowth. He knew the way, for this had been a favourite seclusion when learning new parts, and took a short cut to the appointed place.
“Here comes May,” whispered one of the concealed company from his observation-post in the bushes. “Keep your hands down, you chaps.”
Eliphalet passed within a few feet of several unseen onlookers.
“That was May, wasn’t it?”
“Couldn’t see his face.”
“Must have been.”
Young Manning spoke.
“You’re wrong. It was Cardomay.”
There was a ring of triumph in his voice.