“They will see you!” she half sobbed. “You will be caught and thrown into prison. Oh, hide yourself, hide at once!”
“Not without you,” I interrupted.
“Then with me!” she cried pantingly, and led the way, almost running, back of the willow, down a thread of a path, to a hidden place behind a bend of the stream. Glancing back at the last moment, I saw a squad of soldiers coming over the hill.
As soon as she felt that I was safely out of sight and earshot, she turned and faced me with a sudden swift anger.
“Why have you done this? Why have you forced me to this?” she cried.
“Because I love you,” said I slowly. “Because”—
She drew herself up.
“You do not know,” said she, “what I have promised to Monsieur Anderson. I have promised to redeem my word to him when he can show you to me safe and well.”
I laughed with sheer joy.
“He shall wait long then,” said I. “Sooner than he should claim the guerdon I will fall upon my sword, though my will is, rather, to live for you, beloved.”