Presently the girl became silent, and by-and-by distinctly cross; she lagged a little behind Adam; once or twice she stumbled, and once paused, having tripped over a stone. “What be to do?” inquired Adam, bringing down his eyes all at once from the horizon, where the irregular parti-coloured lines of Oakleigh Wood had hitherto held his gaze. “You do walk so fast,” complained Alice, “and the road be so rough--and--” in a still more aggrieved tone--“all the other boys and maids what we do meet be a-walkin’ arm-in-crook.” “Come,” said Adam diffidently, “us can do that too, I suppose.” Alice curved her arm, and he, after a little practice, supported her elbow in the recognised fashion prescribed for courting-folk. He looked down at her with a softened expression as they advanced afresh. “Be enjoying of yourself, my maid?” he inquired. “E-es,” returned Alice dubiously. “Be you?” “Jist about!” said Adam, at which she brightened visibly. They now turned off the dusty road that for the last half-mile had climbed up almost perpendicularly, with the downs rolling away on one side and a carefully enclosed fir plantation skirting it on the other. A sheep-track that presently lost itself, wound away over the downs between patches of grass and low-growing thorn and elder bushes to where Oakleigh Wood spread its exquisite, undulating length invitingly before them. Adam quickened his pace; his whole face lightened and brightened in a manner of which it had not hitherto seemed capable; presently he began to sing in a rich ringing joyous voice, and Alice, clutching at his arm to stay his progress, exclaimed in amazement:-- “You do seem quite another man to-day!” she cried half petulantly. “I d’ ’low I be another man,” answered he. “Let’s run, maidie, let’s run. Let’s get there.” He caught her by the hand, and the girl, infected by his excitement, raced with him at her topmost speed. Off they flew over the springing turf and only paused, laughing, when they reached the shelter of the belt of firs which stood at the outskirts of the wood. The cool green fragrance was refreshing after that breathless race in the fierce sunshine; Alice’s eyes were dancing and her heart leaping, but Adam had suddenly become grave again; when he spoke it was in a subdued voice almost as if he were in church, the girl thought. Nevertheless he looked very tenderly at her as he touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Now, maidie,” said he, “I be goin’ to show ye such things as ye did never see in your life--I be a-goin’ to let ye into a few of the secrets o’ this place.” “Ye’ve never been here yourself afore,” protested Alice. “I know ’em all the same,” returned Adam. “I do know all about woods. A squirrel, see! Look yon.” “Where?” whispered Alice. “On the big crooked branch there. Keep still, and he’ll come nigh us.”