As she spoke her hood dropped from her face and I saw her every feature plainly. CHAPTER V A MIDNIGHT MEETING My first glance at the woman's face showed me that it was the same as I had seen a few hours before. In the moonlight she looked very pale, and I saw that she was young, not indeed as I judged more than twenty years of age. But what struck me most was the fact that she betrayed no fear; rather I saw a look of defiance, and I could not understand how a woman who had, as I thought, been cowed by the man at the inn could meet me here alone at midnight and be so brave. Nay, as I thought, there was a look of defiance in her face, and a confidence in her own strength. "I desire naught from you, and I have no will to molest you," I said. "Then go your way." "Ay, I will go my way," I replied, "and perchance my way may be yours." "It cannot be. If you have no will to molest me, take your road and I will take mine." Her quiet confidence almost angered me. Fearfulness I was prepared to meet, while cries I expected; but to be quietly commanded to pass on, knowing what I knew, made me somewhat impatient, and hence more at my ease. "It may be, mistress, when I have told you what is in my mind, you will not be so desirous to be rid of me." "There can be naught in your mind that concerns me." Then with a flash as quick as light she said, "Do you boast of gentle blood, young sir?" "I am of gentle birth," I replied. "Then you must know that when a lady would be alone no man of honour will stay by her side." "That's as may be," I replied. "The lady may be surrounded by dangers of which she knows nothing, in which case the man of honour will stay and protect her even against her will!" For a moment she gazed around her as if she apprehended danger, but only for a moment. "Will it please you to pass on?" she said. "Not until I have told you what is in my mind." "Then you are a spy." "As you will," I replied, for the words angered me, and even although I had no sufficient excuse for remaining by her side, I determined to know more of her. "Perhaps my first impression was right," she went on, "and you are a common thief. If so, it is useless coming to me, I have no money." At this I was silent, for my brain refused to give me a suitable answer. "So having no money, and having no desire to remain longer in your company, I will e'en go on my way." "No you will not." At this her eyes flashed like fire. "Why?" she asked. "Because you are afraid to let me know where you are going." At this she gazed fearfully at me, but she spoke no word. "Nevertheless, I know the place for which you are bound," I said. "But if I were you I would not go." "Why?" "Because the man who sent you seeks only his own safety and not yours. Because he desires to use you only as a key to unlock the door by which he would enter, because he has gained power over you only to make you his tool." "What do you know of the man who sent me?"