"Shall I be frank with you? This accident is likely to make us too close friends; and it is better I should return to England, if you remain here." For a moment their eyes met—on his side revealing a secret which she inwardly shuddered to read there—on hers repeating only that mystic, unfathomable expression which he remembered to have seen when he awakened out of his dream. That was all of explanation that passed between them. She knew now his secret, and by the sudden light of the revelation she looked swiftly back over some recent occurrences, and saw the purport of them written in words of fire. Her eyes fell; her own secret was safe; but this new burden of consciousness was almost as difficult to bear. At this moment the Count and Hermann came up, followed by the nearest keepers and beaters. "There has been a slight accident," said Will, briefly. "Get some one to carry my gun; and I’ll walk back to Schönstein." "If you would like to ride," said Hermann—who, with the others, was quite deceived by Will’s manner—"you can get Hans Halm’s _wagen_, that was waiting for the baskets and things. Spiegelmann will show you the way. You are not badly hurt?" "Not at all; not at all. Miss Brunel, will you continue with the party?" "No," she said, firmly; "I am going back to Schönstein." "And I," said the Count. "I can’t allow you to go unattended. I don’t care about any more shooting——" "Nonsense," said Will (with an inward conviction that two minutes’ more talking would find him stretched on the ground); "go on with your sport; and I’ll come out to meet you in the evening." Fortunately, when they reached the shaky old travelling-carriage outside the forest, they found some wine, a good draught of which somewhat revived the wounded man. The hampers and other things were speedily thrown out, and, Spiegelmann having returned to the shooting-party, Will and Miss Brunel got into the vehicle and were driven homewards. Neither spoke a single word all the way. Once, and quite inadvertently, her hand touched his; and she drew it away. The next moment she looked into his face, and perhaps saw some slight shade of vexation there, for she immediately covered his stained fingers with her own. It was as though she said, "I know your sad secret, but we may at least continue friends." CHAPTER XIX. FLIGHT.