Philippa told the story shortly, and had the satisfaction of seeing that the Count’s conjectures as to her preserver were upset when she described him as a stranger. Indeed, D’Alquen’s identity seemed to concern him more than her safety, or the danger she had courted.
“But the man who shot the brute?” he asked, as the story came to an end and Harlberg had rounded it off with a reproving comment. “A stranger, you say? You had never seen him before?”
“Never,” she answered. “Nor, but for the fact that he saved my life, should I wish to see him again.”
Zarka was all curiosity. “Why not?”
“His manner was disagreeable.”
“My dear child,” Harlberg objected, “under the circumstances you can hardly criticise his manner.”
“I do not,” she replied; “only, when it was all over, he frightened me almost as much as the boar had done.”
“Ah! Will you describe the fellow to me,” Zarka said, “that I may know him if we meet, as is probable?”
Philippa did so, relating also the way in which D’Alquen had questioned her. The Count was darkly suspicious.
“Anything to do, think you, with the Prince Roel affair?” Harlberg asked, impressed by the other’s gravity.