e rather than see her marry that wretch," he answered.

Again her blood stung her in the left side. "You do not want her to marry,
then?" she said.

"I do," answered Malcolm, emphatically, "but not that fellow."

"Whom, then, if I may ask?" ventured Clementina trembling.

But Malcolm was silent. He did not feel it would be right to say.

Clementina turned sick at heart. "I have heard there is something
dangerous about the moonlight," she said. "I think it does not suit me
to-night. I will go--home."

Malcolm sprang to his feet and offered his hand. She did not take it, but
rose more lightly, though more slowly, than he. "How did you come from the
park, my lady?" he asked.

"By a gate over there," she answered, pointing. "I wandered out after
dinner, and the sea drew me."

"If your ladyship will allow me, I will take you a much nearer way back,"
he said.

"Do, then," she returned.

He thought she spoke a little sadly, and set it down to her having to go
back to her fellow-guests. What if she should leave to-morrow morning? he
thought. He could never then be sure she had really been with him that
night. He must sometimes think it then a dream. But oh what a dream! He
could thank God for it all his life if he should never dream so again.

They walked across the grassy sand toward the tunnel in silence, he
pondering what he could say that might comfort her and keep her from going
so soon.

"My lady never takes me out with her now," he said at length. He was
going to add that if she pleased he could wait upon her with Kelpie and
show her the country. But then he saw that if she were not with Florimel,
his sister would be riding everywhere alone with Liftore. Therefore he
stopped short.

"And you feel forsaken--deserted?" returned Clementina, sadly still.

"Rather, my lady."

They had reached the tunnel. It looked very black when he opened the door,
but there was just a glimmer through the trees at the other end.

"This is the valley of the shadow of death," she said. "Do I walk straight
through?"

"Yes, my lady. You will soon come out in the light again," he said.

"Are there no steps to fall down?" she asked.

"None, my lady. But I will go first, if you wish."

"No, that would but cut off the little light I have," she said. "Come
beside me."

They passed through in silence, save for the rustle of her dress and the
dull echo that haunted their steps. In a few moments they came out among
the trees,