ind me here. You'll have heard
what's happened to me?"

She nodded, and uttered a half-strangled "Yes."

"Is there anywhere you can hide me? Can you get me into the house
without being seen? I am almost starving, and my leg is on fire. I was
wounded three days ago to make matters worse than they were already. I
have been lying in the woods there watching for the chance to find you
alone since sunrise this morning, and it's devil a bite or sup I've had
since this time yesterday."

"Poor, poor Richard!" She leaned down towards him in an attitude of
compassionate, ministering grace. "But why? Why did you not come up to
the house and ask for me? No one would have recognised you."

"Terence would if he had seen me."

"But Terence wouldn't have mattered. Terence will help you."

"Terence!" He almost laughed from excess of bitterness, labouring under
an egotistical sense of wrong. "He's the last man I should wish to meet,
as I have good reason to know. If it hadn't been for that I should have
come to you a month ago--immediately after this trouble of mine. As
it is, I kept away until despair left me no other choice. Una, on no
account a word of my presence to Terence."

"But... he's my husband!"

"Sure, and he's also adjutant-general, and if I know him at all he's the
very man to place official duty and honour and all the rest of it above
family considerations."

"Oh, Richard, how little you know Terence! How wrong you are to misjudge
him like this!"

"Right or wrong, I'd prefer not to take the risk. It might end in my
being shot one fine morning before long."

"Richard!"

"For God's sake, less of your Richard! It's all the world will be
hearing you. Can you hide me, do you think, for a day or two? If you
can't, I'll be after shifting for myself as best I can. I've been
playing the part of an English overseer from Bearsley's wine farm, and
it has brought me all the way from the Douro in safety. But the strain
of it and the eternal fear of discovery are beginning to break me.
And now there's this infernal wound. I was assaulted by a footpad near
Abrantes, as if I was worth robbing. Anyhow I gave the fellow more than
I took. Unless I have rest I think I shall go mad and give myself up to
the provost-marshal to be shot and done with."

"Why do you talk of being shot? You have done nothing to deserve that.
Why should you fear it?"

Now Mr. Butler was aware--having gathered the information lately on
his travels--