"Have you been long here?" he stammered. "All night." He would have given worlds to leave her at that moment. He would have jumped from the starting coach to save himself any explanation of the embarrassment he was furiously conscious of showing, without, as he believed, any adequate cause. And yet, like all inexperienced, sensitive men, he dashed blindly into that explanation; worse, he even told his secret at once, then and there, and then sat abashed and conscience-stricken, with an added sense of its utter futility. "And this," summed up the young girl, with a slight shrug of her pretty shoulders, "is _your May_?" Cass would have recommenced his story. "No, don't, pray! It isn't interesting, nor original. Do _you_ believe it?" "I do," said Cass, indignantly. "How lucky! Then let me go to sleep." Cass, still furious, but uneasy, did not again address her. When the coach stopped at Blazing Star she asked him, indifferently: "When does this sentimental pilgrimage begin?" "I return for her at one o'clock," replied Cass, stiffly. He kept his word. He appeased his eager companions with a promise of future fortune, and exhibited the present and tangible reward. By a circuitous route known only to himself, he led Miss Mortimer to the road before the cabin. There was a pink flush of excitement on her somewhat faded cheek. "And it was here?" she asked, eagerly. "I found it here." "And the body?" "That was afterward. Over in that direction, beyond the clump of buckeyes, on the Red Chief turnpike." "And any one coming from the road we left just now and going to--to--that place, would have to cross just here? Tell me," she said, with a strange laugh, laying her cold nervous hand on his, "wouldn't they?" "They would." "Let us go to that place." Cass stepped out briskly to avoid observation and gain the woods beyond the highway. "You have crossed here before," she said. "There seems to be a trail." "I may have made it: it's a short cut to the buckeyes." "You never found anything else on the trail?" "You remember, I told you before, the ring was all I found." "Ah, true!" she smiled sweetly; "it was _that_ which made it seem so odd to you. I forgot." In half an hour they reached the buckeyes. During the walk she had taken rapid recognizance of everything in her path. When they crossed the road and Cass had pointed out the scene of the murder, she looked anxiously around. "You are sure we are not seen?" "Quite." "You will not think me foolish if I ask you to wait here while I go in there"--she pointed to the ominous thicket near them--"alone?" She was quite white. Cass's heart, which had grown somewhat cold since his interview with Miss Porter, melted at once. "Go; I will stay here." He waited five minutes. She did not return. What if the poor creature had determined upon suicide on the spot where her faithless lover had fallen? He was reassured in another moment by the rustle of skirts in the undergrowth.