“No, no,” she objected, “I must be going homewards now. It is getting late, and my father will wonder at my absence.”
“Must you go so soon, Philippa?” he protested.
“Yes, indeed,” she answered, evidently anxious to get away from the place. “We can walk slowly,” she added with a smile that bore down his protest. “I love sauntering through the forest, it is a shame to hurry; but you know we have a long way to go.”
With that they went up out of the dell, Von Tressen looking round him sharply as they gained the level ground outside, but seeing nothing that could account for Philippa’s fright.
“Why did you ask me whether it was Count Zarka?” she said presently.
“Your fear put it into my head,” he answered frankly.
“Are there no other living things to fear in the forest?” she demanded, regaining a more confident tone as they left the somewhat eerie dell behind them. “You forget how lately my life was in peril, and can hardly wonder if my nerves are shaken.”
“I dare say it is to be accounted for by that,” he said reassuringly. “You have plenty of courage, Philippa, more than most women, and that makes me wonder at your evident fear of the Count.”
“It is you who make a bugbear of him,” she objected, although not very convincingly. “Ah——”
With the exclamation she caught her lover’s arm and drew him back from the glade they had been about to cross. Von Tressen had seen nothing and looked at her for an explanation. The fear had returned to her face, which had now gone white to the lips.