She was afraid of being alone with him, and De Rothan saw it.
"Come, come, I am not going to cut your throat, or be violent. Gaston, keep yourselves and your horses under cover of that furze. We shall not have long to wait. Now, Nance, I am ready."
The stretch of coarse grass divided the furze banks and the shingle, and De Rothan set off eastward along it with Nance at his side. The girl was white and on the alert. The splashing of the sea upon the shingle was full of a sinister and shivering suggestiveness.
"My Nance, you are still very young. Why are you so afraid of me and of the future that I offer you?"
The triumphant tenderness in his voice made her shudder.
"Need you ask me such questions?"
"It is all bold adventure, is it not, and am I not a man to gallop off with a girl's heart?"
"Adventure! I hate the word!"
He laughed.
"Poor Nance, after all, it does not suit the click of knitting needles. It is only pleasant in books, eh? Well, well, why not some pretty château across the water, with swans on the moat, and a fine old-time garden? You would not quarrel with such quiet, homely things."