He hesitated. Evidently her way was up the steep, winding road and into the dark forest, a far from appealing prospect. Not a sign of habitation was visible along the black ridge of the wood; no lighted window peeped down from the shadows, no smoke curled up from unseen kitchen stoves. Gallantry ordered him to proffer his aid or, at the least, advice to the woman, be she young or old, native or stranger. Retracing his steps, he called out to her above the gale: "Can I be of any assistance to you?" She turned quickly. He saw that the veil was drawn tightly over her face. "No, thank you," she replied. Her voice, despite a certain nervous note, was soft and clear and gentle,--the voice and speech of a well-bred person who was young and resolute. "Pardon me, but have you much farther to go? The storm will soon be upon us, and--surely you will not consider me presumptuous--I don't like the idea of your being caught out in--" "What is to be done about it?" she inquired, resignedly. "I must go on. I can't wait here, you know, to be washed back to the place I started from." He smiled. She had wit as well as determination. There was the suggestion of mirth in her voice--and certainly it was a most pleasing, agreeable voice. "If I can be of the least assistance to you, pray don't hesitate to command me. I am a sort of tramp, you might say, and I travel as well by night as I do by day,--so don't feel that you are putting me to any inconvenience. Are you by any chance bound for Hart's Tavern? If so, I will be glad to lag behind and carry your bag." "You are very good, but I am not bound for Hart's Tavern, wherever that may be. Thank you, just the same. You appear to be an uncommonly genteel tramp, and it isn't because I am afraid you might make off with my belongings." She added the last by way of apology. He smiled--and then frowned as he cast an uneasy look at the black clouds now rolling ominously up over the mountain ridge. "By Jove, we're going to catch it good and hard," he exclaimed. "Better take my advice. These storms are terrible. I know, for I've encountered half a dozen of them in the past week. They fairly tear one to pieces." "Are you trying to frighten me?" "Yes," he confessed. "Better to frighten you in advance than to let it come later on when you haven't any one to turn to in your terror. You are a stranger in these parts?" "Yes. The railway station is a few miles below here. I have walked all the way. There was no one to meet me. You are a stranger also, so it is useless to inquire if you know whether this road leads to Green Fancy." "Green Fancy? Sounds attractive. I'm sorry I can't enlighten you." He drew a small electric torch from his pocket and directed its slender ray upon the sign-post. So fierce was the gale by this time that he was compelled to brace his strong body against the wind.