“Are they all safe?”
“They will be, by now,” Lovel replied mechanically.
“The animals,” cried Clare.
At that, Lovel returned to earth, and a slow smile of amusement crept over his mouth.
“Why, they will have escaped,” he said slowly; “escaped and be roaming about till morning. The village besieged by bears. Well, Miss Warrener, it will not be the first time that bears will have been loose among these stones or prowling on the Downs. Will we all turn out with sticks and staves to-morrow to drive ’em in? Come and ride them in, Miss Warrener, to-morrow morning before any one else is astir. Will you do that?”
“With you?” she asked.
“Why not?” he replied. “But I forgot,” he added, “Mr. Calladine has the disposal of your doings now, has he not? Many’s the pleasant hour you spend over books or in your garden; gentle and pleasant. There was a time when you rode rough as a boy; but that’s over now. Your finger nails are smooth,” he said, taking her hand and examining it critically by the vague light of the flames; “the hand of a lady,” and he lifted it up and sniffed it. “Scented too!” he said. “Scented for Calladine to kiss and fondle,” and gently he gave it back into her keeping, shaking his head. “Ah, Miss Warrener, it was a terrible mistake you made when you rode your pony in your little shepherd’s cap; ’twasn’t that you were cut out for. No, but for a lady’s life. ‘I shall want the carriage this afternoon, Mrs. Quince, to drive to Shrivenham.’” He minced the words. “‘And I shall want the rug put in the carriage lest it turn cold at sunset.’ No more catching your pony in the paddock when the fancy takes you for a gallop across the hills. I’ll come as your groom, if you’ll have me, and promise to keep away my brother, whose touch startles horses.”
“You must let me go home,” said Clare, who, white-faced, was holding her cloak about her.
“Remember, there are bears,” said Lovel. “A bear dressed as a lady, a bear dressed as a clergyman, and one, poor soul, as a clown. They are walking arm-in-arm, perhaps, as they did in the ring, but if they met you walking alone across the fields they might remember that they were born wild. They might forget that they had been tamed to civility. Cap off: ‘Good evening, miss,’ as I might meet you in the lane. Never trust the brute too far. But shouldn’t Mr. Calladine be here to protect you?”
“How can he see me up here?” said Clare. “The night is very dark, and the light down there must blind him.”