"Why were you in the forest that night of storm and wind?"
Philip glanced keenly at the girl by the creek. Her profile was stern
and very beautiful, but the finely moulded lips had quivered.
"What is it, Diane?" he begged gently. "Why is it that you must ask me
all these things that I may not honorably answer?"
"I--I do not see why you may not answer."
"An honorable man respects his promise scrupulously!" said Philip with
a sigh. "You would not have me break mine?"
"Why," cried Diane, "did you fight with Themar in the forest? Why have
you night after night watched my camp? Oh, Philip, surely, surely, you
can tell me!"
Philip sighed. With his infernal habit of mystery and pledges, the
Baron had made this very hard for him.
"None of these things," he said quietly, "I may tell you or anyone."
Diane leaned forward and laid her hand upon his arm.
"Philip," she whispered with dark, tragic eyes fixed upon his face,
"who--who shot the bullet that night? Do you know?"
"Yes," said Philip, "I--I am very sorry. I think I know--"
"You will not tell me?"
"No."
Diane drew back with a shudder.
"I know the answers to all my questions!" she said in a low voice, and
there was a great horror in her eyes. "Oh, Philip, Philip, go! If--if
you could have told me something different--"
"Is it useless to ask you to trust me, Diane?"
"Go!" said Diane, trembling.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251