FTER breakfast the next morning I started out in good earnest, to find a cool, shady spot, and write some letters. I wanted to reach Daddy in London before he left for the continent, to beg him to hurry back as soon as possible. I meant to tell him of Mr. Fordyce's visit, too, but I didn't think I would mention Gilbert Spear, just yet; at least not until I had told Gilbert of my identity. Daddy might cable to Arnold Spear, and spoil my surprise.
Aunt Julie had said at breakfast that Mr. Fordyce might return before long, and I was very glad. It was odd, but the more I thought of him, the more familiar his face had seemed to me; just as I had fancied when I first met Bijou again, that I must have seen her some- where lately, so I felt toward him.
I was walking slowly along the path leading to the cove, when all at once my thoughts were interrupted by a slight sound behind me, as if a twig had snapped beneath a stealthy footfall. I glanced over my shoulder, but no one was to be seen, and I sauntered on. I had come to a little path which branched off to the right, and I remembered that it was somewhere about here that I had chanced upon the little clearing, two days before, where the peculiarly shaped flower-bed was. I could have laughed now, at the silly, morbid fancies it had awakened, and the sudden impulse came to me to look for it, and see if the gardener had arranged flowers in it yet.
I came upon the thicket by the spring, where I had literally fallen into Gilbert Spear's arms, and retracing my steps, I found the clearing without much difficulty, yet—was it the right spot after all? It could not be, for there wasn't any flower-bed at all, just a smooth stretch of mossy green sward. Then, as I looked closely, I discovered that an oblong space in it seemed wilted and trampled upon, and going over gingerly to its edge, I saw that the mound had been levelled and very carelessly sodded.
As I moved on, wondering why whoever had planned the flower-bed had changed their minds, I heard again, unmistakably, a soft footstep behind me, and the rustle of branches as someone parted the bushes. I was being followed! Why, and by whom I could not imagine, but I determined to find out. I did not look around, but kept straight on slowly until I came to a sharp curve in the path. Then I slipped quickly behind a screening clump of bushes, and waited.
The footsteps drew nearer, and presently a man appeared, walking with a stealthy, cat-like tread, and peering sharply ahead. It was Monsieur Pelissier! I stepped quietly from behind the bushes, and faced him.
"May I ask you why you are following me, Monsieur?" I demanded coldly.
He started in surprise at my abrupt appearance, and then smiled blandly as he uncovered his head.
"I, Mademoiselle?" he began, but I cut him short.
"Yes. I have been aware for some time that I was being followed. Will you tell me why, please?"
I stood my ground, and looked firmly into his shifting eyes, and he shrugged with a gesture of half mocking appeal.
"I will admit, Miss Waring, I am guilty. I did follow you."
"I should like to know for what purpose?" I persisted.
"Can you ask?" He rolled his eyes beseechingly. "See! I am desolate, in disgrace because of two days ago. You have not granted me a look, a word, an opportunity to abase myself, to ask your pardon for my rudeness, my gaucherie! Ah, , if you could know my fears, my anxiety for you in the storm which was approaching, you would understand and forgive my ill-chosen words when I came upon you."
"Perhaps I should," I returned, with involuntary frankness. "There is a great deal about you that I do not understand, Monsieur Pelissier. If I knew the nature of your fears for me that day, I might be able to comprehend many things which are obscure to me."
He shot a lightning glance at me. Then his face changed swiftly, and he smiled.
"I am delighted to have awakened your interest, Mademoiselle. … You will permit?"
He lighted a cigarette airily but his hand trembled a little, and he tossed the match quickly aside.
"My fears for you?" He went on, smoothly. "Surely they are not incomprehensible? You were in very real danger, alone in the forest in that rising wind, with trees crashing down all about you! Mrs. Smith was almost beside herself with anxiety, and as for me, I scarcely realized what I said when I found you, unharmed, my relief was so great. You will be kind, and try to forget that little incident, or forgive it on the score of my solicitude for you?"
I shook my head.