"Not with cold," she answered. "I am thinking of my brother George. If you have any pity for the only sister of your lost friend, do what I ask you, Mr. Audley. I must speak to youI must speak to youcalmly, if I can."
She put her hand to her head as if trying to collect her thoughts, and then pointed to the gate. Robert bowed and left her. He told the man to drive slowly toward the station, and walked on by the side of the tarred fence surrounding Mr. Talboys' grounds. About a hundred yards beyond the principal entrance he came to a little wooden gate in the fence, and waited at it for Miss Talboys.
She joined him presently, with her shawl still over her head, and her eyes still bright and tearless.
"Will you walk with me inside the plantation?" she said. "We might be observed on the high-road."
He bowed, passed through the gate, and shut it behind him.
When she took his offered arm he found that she was still tremblingtrembling very violently.
"Pray, pray calm yourself, Miss Talboys," he said; "I may have been deceived in the opinion which I have formed; I may"
"No, no, no," she exclaimed, "you are not deceived. My brother has been murdered. Tell me the name of that womanthe woman whom you suspect of being concerned in his disappearancein his murder."
"You told my father that you would abandon all idea of discovering the truththat you would rest satisfied to leave my brother's fate a horrible mystery never to be solved upon this earth; but you will not do so, Mr. Audleyyou will not be false to the memory of your friend. You will see vengeance done upon those who have destroyed him. You will do this, will you not?"
A gloomy shadow spread itself like a dark veil over Robert Audley's handsome face.
He remembered what he had said the day before at Southampton:
"A hand that is stronger than my own is beckoning me onward, upon the dark road."
A quarter of an hour before, he had believed that all was over, and that he was released from the dreadful duty of discovering the secret of George's death. Now this girl, this apparently passionless girl, had found a voice, and was urging him on toward his fate.
"If you knew what misery to me may be involved in discovering the truth, Miss Talboys," he said, "you would scarcely ask me to pursue this business any farther?"
