“No,” she said almost nervously. “Come with me; some one waits outside to see you; some one who won't—can't come in.”
She was wet; her hair was matted over her forehead, the sleet lying in beads upon it. A hood that had been pulled hurriedly over her head was blown partly aside. Ralph would have drawn her to the fire.
“Not yet,” she said again. Her eyes looked troubled, startled, denoting pain.
“Then I will go with you at once,” he said.
They turned; Laddie darted out before them, and in a moment they were in the blackness of the night.
CHAPTER IV. THE OUTCAST.
The storm had abated. The sleet and rain had ceased, but the wind still blew fierce and strong, driving black continents of cloud across a crescent moon. It was bitingly cold. Rotha walked fast and spoke little. Ralph understood their mission. “Is he far away?” he said.
“Not far.”
Her voice had a tremor of emotion, and as the wind carried it to him it seemed freighted with sadness. But the girl would have hidden her fears.