Tom was not yet
so near as to have heard their voices. I saw the desirability of his
remaining in ignorance for the present, so I uttered a loud "chuck,"
and gave a pull at my reins, as if urging my horse to a better gait,
my purpose being to warn the speakers of unseen passers-by ere Tom
should come up. I had not let my horse come to a stop, nor had I
otherwise betrayed my discovery.
But, to my dread, I presently heard Tom cry sharply, "Whoa!" and,
looking back, saw he had halted at the place where I had heard the
voices. My warning must have failed to hush the speakers. Never shall
I forget the look of startled horror, shame, and anger upon his face.
For a moment he sat motionless; then he turned his horse back to an
opening in the thicket, and rode into the glade. I galloped after him,
to prevent, if possible, some fearful scene.
When I entered the glade, I saw Margaret and Captain Falconer seated
upon their horses, looking with still fresh astonishment and
discomfiture upon the intruder. Their faces were toward me. Tom had
stopped his horse, and he sat regarding them with what expression I
could not see, being behind him. Apparently no one of the three had
yet spoken.
Tom glanced at me as I joined the group, and then, in a singularly
restrained voice, he said:
"Captain Falconer, may I beg leave to be alone with my sister a few
moments? I have something to ask her.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182