"But you say you met her, Sir. Did she not see you?"
"No. She stood some yards from me tranquil and statuesque, quite unconscious of my presence—that I could swear."
"Surely she must have seen you—the moon, you said, was bright."
"She did not see me. It is true I uttered an exclamation of surprise when I found her so close to me; for I thought she had vanished. She may have heard that cry."
"But what should this lady be doing in the fields at two o'clock in the morning?" he asked, with a light smile.
"That is precisely what I wish to know."
He slowly filled another pipe, with his lips moving as though in the process of rehearsal.
"Mr. Thorburn," said he, "I am sure you will excuse my freedom. I really think you should banish this subject from your mind. You have settled here for the purpose of prosecuting a good and lofty purpose, and you should suffer nothing to seduce you from devoting your whole energies to its accomplishment. No man can serve two mistresses. And knowledge, Sir, let me assure you, is a mistress who, if she does not receive your whole heart, will give you little in return."
"Your candour requires no apology, Martelli," I answered. "I am sure you speak for my good, and I am grateful for the interest you take in me. But I must tell you that this woman has occupied my thoughts so long, that it is become a positive necessity to know her. Don't smile at what I am about to say—I protest, for my part, I was never more in earnest—I believe," I said solemnly, "that this woman is to be an influence on my life—though whether baneful or benignant is still the secret of the future. Why do you shrug your shoulders? Don't you believe in presentiments—in the power of the soul to foreshadow destiny? A few hours before I met her—this lady—she presented herself to me in a dream. Your sceptical mind would pronounce this a coincidence—the very dream, you think, might have generated the subsequent vision. But it was no coincidence. It was the operation of some mystic agency, to be credited without questioning; an agency as definite, though inscrutable, as the soul which informs our being with the knowledge of its existence, but ridicules our efforts to give that knowledge shape."