But Malcolm was silent. He did not feel it would be right to say.
Clementina turned sick at heart. "I have heard there is something dangerous about the moonlight," she said. "I think it does not suit me to-night. I will go—home."
Malcolm sprang to his feet and offered his hand. She did not take it, but rose more lightly, though more slowly, than he. "How did you come from the park, my lady?" he asked.
"By a gate over there," she answered, pointing. "I wandered out after dinner, and the sea drew me."
"If your ladyship will allow me, I will take you a much nearer way back," he said.
"Do, then," she returned.
He thought she spoke a little sadly, and set it down to her having to go back to her fellow-guests. What if she should leave to-morrow morning? he thought. He could never then be sure she had really been with him that night. He must sometimes think it then a dream. But oh what a dream! He could thank God for it all his life if he should never dream so again.
They walked across the grassy sand toward the tunnel in silence, he pondering what he could say that might comfort her and keep her from going so soon.
"My lady never takes me out with her now," he said at length. He was going to add that if she pleased he could wait upon her with Kelpie and show her the country. But then he saw that if she were not with Florimel, his sister would be riding everywhere alone with Liftore. Therefore he stopped short.
"And you feel forsaken—deserted?" returned Clementina, sadly still.