' the young
leddy, sir; she is not in her room."
"Why, there she is," said I, standing up and glancing through the
casement. "She has gone back for the flowers she left upon the bank."
"Oh, sir, see her boots and her dress!" cried the landlady, wildly. "I
wish her mother was here, sir--I do. Where she has been is more than I
ken, but her bed has not been lain on this night."
"She has felt restless, doubtless, and went for a walk, though the hour
was certainly a strange one."
Mrs. Adams pursed her lip and shook her head. But then as she stood at
the casement, the girl beneath looked smilingly up at her and beckoned to
her with a merry gesture to open the window.
"Have you my tea there?" she asked in a rich, clear voice, with a touch
of the mincing French accent.
"It is in your room, miss."
"Look at my boots, Mrs. Adams!" she cried, thrusting them out from under
her skirt. "These fells of yours are dreadful places--effroyable--one
inch, two inch; never have I seen such mud! My dress, too--_voila_!"
"Eh, miss, but you are in a pickle," cried the landlady, as she gazed
down at the bedraggled gown. "But you must be main weary and heavy for
sleep."
"No, no," she answered, laughingly, "I care not for sleep. What is
sleep? it is a little death--_voila tout_. But for me to walk, to run,
to beathe the air--that is to live. I was not tired, and so all night I
have explored these fells of Yorkshire."
"Lord 'a mercy, miss, and where did you go?" asked Mrs. Adams.
She waved her hand round in a sweeping gesture which included the whole
western horizon. "There," she cried. "O comme elles sont tristes et
sauvages, ces collines! But I have flowers here. You will give me
water, will you not? They will wither else." She gathered her treasures
in her lap, and a moment later we heard her light, springy footfall upon
the stair.
So she had been out all night, this strange woman. What motive could
have taken her from her snug room on to the bleak, wind-swept hills?
Could it be merely the restlessness, the love of adventure of a young
girl? Or was there, possibly, some deeper meaning in this nocturnal
journey?
Deep as were the mysteries which my studies had taught me to solve, here
was a human problem which for the moment at least was beyond my
comprehension. I had walked out on the moor in the forenoon, and on my
return, as I topped the brow that overlooks the little town, I saw my
fellow-lodger
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