used it had
been, and was done with; she had it no longer that with it she might
hold him in defiance, and it did not occur to her that he was no longer
in case to invoke the law.

Her face grew stony, a dry glitter came to her blue eyes; she cast a
glance over her shoulder at Diana and her servant. Wilding observed
it and read what was passing in her mind; indeed, it was not to be
mistaken, no more than what is passing in the mind of the recruit who
looks behind him in the act of charging. His lips half smiled.

"Of what are you afraid?" he asked her.

"I am not afraid," she answered in husky accents that belied her.

Perhaps to reassure her, perhaps because he thought of his companions
lurking in the thicket and cared not to have them for his audience, he
suggested they should go a little way in the direction her cousin had
taken. She wheeled her horse, and, side by side, they ambled up the
dusty road.

"The thing I have to tell you," said he presently, "concerns myself."

"Does it concern me?" she asked him coldly, and her coolness was urged
partly by her newborn fears, partly to counterbalance such impression
as her illjudged show of gladness at his safety might have made upon his
mind. He flashed her a sidelong glance, the long white fingers of his
right hand toying thoughtfully with a ringlet of the dark brown hair
that fell upon the shoulders of his scarlet coat.

"Surely, madam," he answered dryly, "what concerns a man may well
concern his wife."

She bowed her head, her eyes upon the road before her. "True," said she,
her voice expressionless. "I had forgot."

He reined in and turned to look at her; her horse moved on a pace or
two, then came to a halt, apparently of its own accord.

"I do protest," said he, "you treat me less kindly than I deserve." He
urged his mare forward until he had come up with her again, and
then drew rein once more. "I think that I may lay some claim to--at
least--your gratitude for what I did to-day."

"It is my inclination to be grateful," said she. She was very wary of
him. "Forgive me, if I am still mistrustful."

"But of what?" he cried, a thought impatiently.

"Of you. What ends did you seek to serve? Was it to save Richard that
you came?"

"Unless you think that it was to save Blake," he said ironically. "What
other ends do you conceive I could have served?" She made him no answer,
and so he resumed after a pause. "I rode to Taunton to serve you for two
reaso