'Umph! Well, we start in an hour.'
And that was all! I wandered away and stood staring at the ground. I remembered that Peter the locksmith had valued the chain at two hundred ducats, a sum exceeding any I could pay. But that was not the worst. What was I to say to the girl? How was I to explain a piece of folly, mischief, call it what you will, that had turned out so badly? If I told her the truth, would she believe me?
At that thought I started. Why tell her the truth at all? Why not leave her in ignorance? She would be none the worse, for the chain was gone. And I, who had never meant to steal it, should be the better, seeing that I should escape the humiliation of confessing what I had done. Confession could do no good to her. And in what a position it would place me!
Leaning against a tree and driving my heel moodily into the soil, I was still battling with this temptation--for a temptation I knew it was, even then--when a light touch fell on my sleeve. I turned, and there was the girl herself, waiting to speak to me!
CHAPTER XII.
[NEAR THE EDGE.]
'Will you give me back my--my chain, if you please?' she said timidly.
And she stood with clasped hands and blushing cheeks, as if she were the culprit. Her eyes looked anywhere to avoid mine. Her voice trembled, and she seemed ready to sink into the earth with shame. She was small, weak, helpless. But her words! Had they come from the judge sitting on his bench, with axe and branding-iron by his side, they could not have cowed me more completely, or deprived me more quickly of wit and courage.
'Your chain?' I stammered, stricken almost voiceless. 'What do you mean?'
'If you please,' she whispered, her face flushing more and more, her eyes filling. 'My chain.'