"Whatever comes, Charlie, I want you to take care of Hope. Guard her for me, will you?"
I said, "Yes, I will try to."
Hope smiled as she held out her hand to me. "I will not be afraid, with Derek's friend."
Her English was of different intonation from our own, but it was her native language, I could not doubt.
I took her cold, slightly trembling hand. "Thank you, Hope."
Her eyes were misty with starlight. Tender eyes, but the tenderness was not for me.
"Yes," I repeated. "You can depend upon me, Derek."
We left the hillock. A food-laden cart came along the road. The driver, a boy vivid in jacket and wide trousers of red and blue, bravely worn but tattered, ran alongside guiding the oxen. When they had passed we followed, and presently we came to the cloaks Hope had hidden. Derek and I donned them. They were long crimson cloaks with hoods.
Hope said, "Many are gathering for the festival shrouded like that. You will not be noticed now."