"It is the blood," he said, angrily; "one would think I couldn't afford to lose as much as the scratch of a penknife would let. Will you allow me to take off my coat?—and if you could tie a handkerchief tightly round my arm——"
"Oh, why did you not ask me to do so before?" she said, as she helped to uncover the limb that was by this time drenched in blood.
"Think of what the deer would have suffered, if you had hit him instead of me," said Will, with a ghastly smile. "He was a dozen yards nearer you. You seem to like long shots."
But there was a mute pleading look in her eyes that seemed to appeal against his banter. She seemed to say to him by that dumb expression, "You wrong me. You try to make us strangers by that assumed fun. You do it to cheer me; but you make me a stranger to you, for you are not honest with me."
And somehow he read the meaning of her face; and said to her, in a low voice—
"Shall I be frank with you? This accident is likely to make us too close friends; and it is better I should return to England, if you remain here."
For a moment their eyes met—on his side revealing a secret which she inwardly shuddered to read there—on hers repeating only that mystic, unfathomable expression which he remembered to have seen when he awakened out of his dream.
That was all of explanation that passed between them. She knew now his secret, and by the sudden light of the revelation she looked swiftly back over some recent occurrences, and saw the purport of them written in words of fire. Her eyes fell; her own secret was safe; but this new burden of consciousness was almost as difficult to bear.
At this moment the Count and Hermann came up, followed by the nearest keepers and beaters.
"There has been a slight accident," said Will, briefly. "Get some one to carry my gun; and I'll walk back to Schönstein."