"Then you must have told your Granny, or one of 'em. You've forgotten, but I expect you told people at the time."
"I didn't. I didn't dare to at first. I thought he'd come after me, if I did. I was afraid."
Dale grunted again. "An' d'you mean to say you'd the grit in you to come back here all the same, after that?"
"Not for a little while. Then I did. I was all a twitter, so frightened still, but I was fascinated for to do it too—just to see."
"But you never saw him again."
"No, and then I began to think it was all a fancy. D'you think it was a fancy, and not real?"
"My dear girl, no;" and Dale shrugged his shoulders. "You prob'ly saw some poor devil of a tramp who had slept here, and was getting on the move after his night's rest." Then he took a step away from the tree, and spoke curtly. "Come. We must go home."
Norah sprang off the tree, hurried to his side, and, with her hands linked about his arm, looked up at him anxiously.
"Yes, but it's all right, isn't it? You're not angry with me—not turning against me?"
"No, it's all right."