Zarka gave a scornful laugh. “You insist?” Then he snarled, “I tell you there is no difference.”
“Pardon me, Count, you are mistaken.”
“And you are somewhat presumptuous, Herr Lieutenant,” Zarka flung back with a vicious flash in his eyes, “to think to teach me my way about the forest.”
All this time Philippa had remained silent; the veiled altercation had been so rapidly carried on as to give her scarcely an opportunity of interposing. But now, when it was evident that neither man would give way, and that a quarrel was imminent, she spoke.
“Let us keep to the path. It is good of you, Herr Lieutenant, to wish to spare me fatigue, but I am not so very tired.”
The look she gave Von Tressen as she appealed to him was such that he could no longer continue to insist upon the shorter way. There was in it entreaty and distress which, even putting aside his love, he could not ignore. So, distasteful as it was to yield to such an adversary, he could only bow and acquiesce.
“After all, the Fräulein is the judge; we forget that, Lieutenant,” Zarka observed, with a little exulting laugh as they moved on again.
The talk was now not quite so easy. Zarka addressed his whole conversation to Philippa, by his manner ignoring Von Tressen altogether. It was a great relief to her when the house was reached, and at the gate she turned to her lover and bade him farewell, the words she spoke and which Zarka could hear being but an inconsiderable part of the message which her eyes gave, and which that amiable noble could not see. It was naturally most distasteful to Von Tressen to have to leave them together, and he chafed at the idea that the Count was free of the house while he remained an outsider; but he told himself that for a week to come he must bear it, and was too high-minded and chivalrous to attempt to stay against Philippa’s wish. But as he walked away, after exchanging formal salutations with the Count, his mind began again to dwell bitterly on the mystery which lay between him and his love, and which he so longed to bring to an end.
He was roused from thoughts which at every step were becoming more tormenting, by the thud of a cantering horse behind him. Feeling somewhat happier in the knowledge that Zarka had not stayed at the farm, he resolved not to turn or take any notice of him, but to let him ride on, which doubtless after what had passed between them, would be the other’s intention. But it was not so. As he drew level, Zarka reined in his horse, and addressed Von Tressen in a sharp tone which was more of a novelty than a surprise.
“I should like a few words with you, Herr Lieutenant.”