Without another thought she rose, and as she was, in her evening dress and thin shoes, she ran out of the house and along the wooded road toward the Grange. A terrible idea was goading her on. He was mad; he hated Dale; he had a revolver with him. Oh, could she be in time? They would wonder at her. What did that matter? Her love, her lord was--or might be--in danger. She pressed on, till she panted and had to pause; then, with breath but half recovered, over rough and smooth ground, knowing no difference, she sped on her way.
Dale's talk with the Squire was not long; but the Squire's daughter came to the door to bid him good-night, and was easily persuaded to walk a little way down the drive with him. She went farther than she meant, as was natural enough; for she was leaning on his arm, and he was telling her, in that caressing voice of his, that all his life and heart and brain and power were hers, and lavishing sweet words on her.
"I must go back, Dale," she said. "They will wonder what has become of me."
"Ah, my darling, how soon will it be when we need never part? How soon? I mean how long, till then! Do you love me?"
"What was it you said the other day--was it only yesterday?--that you would die for me?"
"Ah, Jan, my sweetest Jan, that you should say that to me!"
They said no more, but did not part yet. At last he suffered her to tear herself away.
"I shall run back through the shrubbery," she whispered.
"Yes, wait. When I get in, I will show you a light from my window. A good-night light, Dale."
She sped away down a side-path, and Dale leaned against a tree, in the moonlight, fixing his lovelorn eyes on the window.
As Janet turned down her path, she rushed, in her rapid flight, against a man who stood there in lurking.
Dale's side was to him, but he was watching Dale, with a sneering smile on his lips. When she saw him, she started back. In a moment he seized her shoulder with one hand, and pressed a pistol to her head.
"If you make a sound, I'll kill you," he hissed. "Don't stir--don't scream."
She was paralyzed with surprise and fright. It was Roberts, and--what did he mean?
He pushed her slowly before him, the revolver still at her head, till they reached the drive. Dale's eyes were set on his mistress' window, and their feet made no noise on the grass-edges of the drive. Roberts gave a low laugh, and whispered in her ear.