“Nobody. I slipped out easily, and took a long way through the woods. And now I must hurry back. And you will promise to go away to-morrow. Please promise me that.”
“But why do you go back to that place? You have a grandfather here, and plenty of friends.”
“I’m as safe there as here. I’m not in any danger. You are in danger. You must go away. To-morrow! Promise me that—please!”
“But why? What are they afraid of? I came only to buy a horse.”
“I can’t tell you. But don’t you believe me? Don’t you know that I am telling the truth—that you are in danger? Do you think I’d came all that way alone through the woods at night for—for fun?”
“I believe you, of course. But I think you must have an exaggerated idea of the danger.”
“Exaggerated! Do you think I’m a fool? You are in danger of—of—death!”
“Death? Then it is not for the first time; and why should it be the first time for me to run away?”
“I’m sorry, but it can’t be done. Even if the danger is as actual as you say—and not for a moment do I doubt the sincerity of your belief in it—I can’t allow my plans to be altered by people of that—by a few suspicious countrymen.”
“They are—my people. Their leader—the oldest and worst of them—is my grandfather. I know them better than you do.”
“I’m sorry, really I am; and I think you are a brick for coming out to warn me. You have more than squared our little account, for what I did at the fire required very little effort, and no courage whatever. I promise not to venture alone into their headquarters to-morrow, but it is absolutely impossible for me to run away from them just because they happen to suspect me of being something I am not. If I were to do a thing like that, I shouldn’t be able to live with myself afterward.”
“My dear girl, how can I go? My mission is peaceful and lawful. I’m not looking for trouble. I am sorry, but you can see how absolutely impossible it is for me to run away just to humor a gang of—a violent and suspicious old man and that ignorant young lout.”
And then he realized that she was weeping.
“Miss Hinch! Please—ah, you mustn’t, really! You are tired—the tramp through the woods. Come, be a good girl, let me take you to Miss Hassock, or to the McPhees. You have friends in this village—plenty of them, the entire population, I’m sure. Come, you need a good rest. I’m quite safe, and I’ll not make trouble. There’s really nothing to cry about. Come to Miss Hassock, there’s a good girl. Why should you go back to that place, anyway—against your guardian’s wishes?”