"I thought we took the road to Santon. And mind," she added earnestly, "this was before Master Lindstrom had uttered a word about going that way, or any other way save to Wesel. I dreamt that we followed the road through such a dreadful flat country, a country all woods and desolate moorland, under a gray sky, and in torrents of rain, to----"
"Well, well?" I said, with a passing shiver at the picture. She described it with a rapt, absent air, which made me creep--as if even now she were seeing something uncanny.
"And then I thought that in the middle of these woods, about half-way to Santon, they overtook us, and there was a great fight."
"There would be sure to be that!" I muttered, with shut teeth.
"And I thought you were killed, and we women were dragged back! There, I cannot tell you the rest!" she added wildly. "But try, try to get them to go the old way. If not, I know evil will come of it. Promise me to try?"
"I will tell them your dream," I said.
"No, no!" she exclaimed still more vehemently. "They would only laugh. Madam does not believe in dreams. But they will listen to you if you say you think the other way better. Promise me you will! Promise me!" she pleaded, her hands clasping my arm, and her tearful eyes looking up to mine.
"Well," I agreed reluctantly, "I will try. After all, the shortest way may be the best. But if I do," I said kindly, "you must promise me in return not to be alarmed any longer, Anne."
"I will try," she said gratefully; "I will indeed, Francis."
We were summoned at that minute, for the boat was waiting for us. The Duchess scanned us rather curiously as we ran up--we were the last. But Anne kept her word, and concealed her fears so bravely that, as she jumped in from the bank, her air of gayety almost deceived me, and would have misled the sharpest-sighted person who had not been present at our interview, so admirably was it assumed.