Part 51 (2/2)

”No,” she said, ”no.” She hesitated. ”Could we hide it? Cover it up? It ought to be buried. I can't leave it--just lying there----” There was a catch in her voice.

He concealed his astonishment and looked about him.

”Of course not,” he said cheerfully. ”Here--what about this?”

A huge tussock of bleached gra.s.s, its sodden leaves as long as a woman's hair, caught his eye. He parted the heavy ma.s.s and showed her the little cave of dry soil below.

”What about this? They'll be all right here,” he suggested gravely.

Alwynne nodded.

”Yes--put it in quickly,” she said.

Without a word, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he did as she asked. Then, rising and slipping her arm through his own, he pushed on quite silently, holding back the strong pollard shoots, clearing aside the brambles, till they reached the uneven footpath once more, that led them in less than five minutes to the further edge of the wood. As they emerged into the open fields, he felt the weight on his arm lessening. He glanced at his companion, and saw that there was once more a tinge of colour in her cheek.

She drew a deep breath and looked at him.

”I thought I should never get out again,” she said dispa.s.sionately, as one stating a bald fact.

”Get where?”

”Out of that wood. You were just in time. I thought I was caught. I should have been, if you hadn't come.”

Then she grew conscious of his expression, and answered it--

”I suppose you think I'm mad.”

”I do rather.”

”I don't wonder. It doesn't much matter----” Her voice flagged and strained.

They walked on in silence.

She began again abruptly.

”Of course you thought I was mad. I knew you would. I do myself, sometimes. Any one would. Even Clare. That's why I never told any one.

But it never happened when I was awake before.”

”I wonder if you would tell me exactly what happened?”

”I was frightened,” she began irresolutely.

”For a moment I wondered if a tramp----”

She laughed shakily.

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