"You needn't of," she replied. "Pappy came in boastin' of what Tusk was goin' to do for him, so I slipped out to listen. But I tried to stop him, honest I did; an' I'm awful sorry any of my people 'd treat you that a-way!" "Great God," he said in a husky voice, taking her hands, "how can you feel sorry when I was all to blame!" "Oh, Brent," she looked away, "we mustn't ever speak of that!" She had withdrawn her hands and now stood somewhat apart, glancing toward the house and contemplating a dash for it. He read this. "Not yet," he said. "You can't go in yet, for I want to talk to you--I want to be honest with you. Come!" As though drawn by some invisible force she followed, and together they walked down the pike until the house was shut from view. He turned then, and was about to speak but waited, listening. It was one of those very still nights of heavy atmosphere when sounds carry great distances, and he had detected the leisurely galloping of two horses. Soon he heard them slow down at the stream where he and Tusk had fought; then a wave of laughter, mingled with the splash of water and iron shod hoofs striking upon loose stones, reached him. After this the galloping recommenced. Had he wanted he might have stepped farther into the shadows and escaped detection; but he waited until they were nearly abreast, then called. Dale pulled up with a jerk, and Jane leaned over her pummel peering into the darkness where they stood. He spoke now, and she answered: "Hello, Brent! Oh, is it you, Nancy?" Try as she did, with all of her might, to make this greeting natural, the alert perception of the engineer heard only her surprise--her hurt surprise--that Nancy was there. Had she come unexpectedly upon Nancy in a foreign hospital bed, she might have said it--to Brent's ears--in identically the same way. "We didn't want you to pass without saying howdy," Brent explained. "Where away in such a hurry?" "I supped this night with my lord John May," she had rallied now, "and Sir Dale is seeing me on the road. Whence lies your way?" "The way of the penitent," he declared. "'Tis not so hard as the transgressor's," she warned, galloping on. "Why did you stop her?" Nancy asked, looking at him in wonder. "She needn't have seen you heah?" "I wanted her to see--how pretty you are," he answered; but during that pause, slight as it was, she realized he had stubbornly, defiantly, baffled his pride. "Didn't you say something about bein' honest?" she naively asked.