rightened them, and they heard
the horses browsing.

Mike declared he could say when she had begun to like him.

"You remember you were standing by the sideboard holding your habit
over your boots; I brought you a glass of champagne, and you looked
at me...."

She told him of her troubles since she had left school. He related
the story of his own precarious fortunes; and as they lay dreaming of
each other, the sound of horse's hoofs came through the darkness.

"Oh, do cry out, perhaps they will be able to tell us the way."

"Do you want to leave me?"

"No, no, but I must get home; what will father think?"

Mike shouted, and his shout was answered.

"Where are you?" asked the unknown.

"Here," said Mike.

"Where is here?"

"By the furze-bush."

"Where is the furze-bush?"

It was difficult to explain, and the voice grew fainter. Then it
seemed to come from a different side.

Mike shouted again and again, and at last a horseman loomed like a
nightmare out of the dark. It was Parker, Lady Edith's groom.

"Oh, Parker, how did you miss me? I have been awfully frightened; I
don't know what I should have done if I had not met Mr. Fletcher."

"I was coming round that barn, my lady; you set off at a trot, my
lady, and a cloud of fog came between us."

"Yes, yes; but do you know the way home?"

"I think, my lady, we are near the dike; but I wouldn't be certain."

"I nearly as possible rode into a chalk-pit," said Mike. "Unpleasant
as it is, I think we had better remain where we are until it clears."

"Oh, no, no, we cannot remain here; we might walk and lead the
horses."

"Very well, you get on your horse; I'll lead."

"No, no," she whispered, "give me your arm, and I'll walk."

They walked in the bitter, hopeless dark, stumbling over the rough
ground, the groom following with the horses. But soon Lady Edith
stopped, and leaning heavily on Mike, said--

"I can go no further; I wish I were dead!"

"Dead! No, no," he whispered; "live for my sake, darling."

At that moment the gable of a barn appeared like an apparition. The
cattle which were lying in the yard started from under the horses'
feet, and stood staring in round-eyed surprise. The barn was half
full of hay, and in the dry pungent odour Mike and Lady Edith rested
an hour. Sometimes a bullock filled the doorway with ungainly form
and steaming nostrils; sometimes the lips of the lovers met. In about
half an hour the groom returned with the ne