She was trembling so that he thought she would fall; and he would have put his arms round her, but that she drew back, and in so doing she got into the light, and then he saw the immeasurable pity and sadness of her eyes.
"Oh, my love," she said with the tears running down her face, "I love you! I will tell you that now, when we speak for the last time. See, I will kiss you; and then you will go away."
"I will not go away—not without you—this night. Wenna, dearest, you have let your heart speak at last: now let it tell you what to do."
"Oh, must I go? Must I go?" she said; and then she looked wildly round again.
"Mabyn!" called out Trelyon, half mad with joy and triumph—"Mabyn, come along! Look sharp! jump in! This way, my darling!"
And he took the trembling girl and half lifted her into the carriage.
"Oh, my love, what am I doing for you this night?" she said to him with her eyes swimming in tears.
But what was the matter with Mabyn? She was just putting her foot on the iron step when a rapidly approaching figure caused her to utter a cry of alarm, and she stumbled back into the road again. The very accident that Trelyon had been anticipating had occurred: here was Mr. Roscorla, bewildered at first, and then blind with rage when he saw what was happening before his eyes. In his desperation and anger he was about to lay hold of Mabyn by the arm when he was sent staggering backward half a dozen yards.
"Don't interfere with me now, or by God I will kill you!" Trelyon said between his teeth, and then he hurried Mabyn into the carriage.
What was the sound then that the still woods heard under the throbbing stars through the darkness that lay over the land? Only the sound of horses' feet, monotonous and regular, and not a word of joy or sorrow uttered by any one of the party thus hurrying on through the night.