But Charlotte was as swift as he. She flung her hands around George, and held him there. Strong hands they always were: doubly strong in that moment of agitation. George could not unclasp them: unless he had used violence. "Stay where you are! Stay where you are, for the love of Heaven!" she gasped. "You must not go." "What is all this? What is the matter?" he asked in surprise. She made no other answer. She clung to him with all her weight of strength, her arms and hands straining with the effort, reiterating wildly, "You must not go! you must not go!" "Nay, I don't care to go," replied George: "it was for your sake I was following. Be calm, Charlotte: there's no necessity for this agitation." She went on, down the narrow pathway, drawing him with her. The broader path gained--though that also was but a narrow one--she put her arm within his, and turned towards the house. George could see her white frightened face better now, and all the tricks and cosmetics invented could not hide its ghastliness; he felt her heaving pulses; he heard her beating heart. Bending down to her, he spoke with a soothing whisper. "Tell me what it was that terrified you." She would not answer. She only pressed his arm with a tighter pressure, lest he might break from her again in pursuit; she hurried onwards with a quicker step. Skirting round the trees, which before the house made a half circle, Charlotte came to the end, and then darted rapidly across the lawn to the terrace and into the house by one of the windows. He followed her. Her first movement was to close the shutters and bar them: her next to sit down on the nearest chair. Ill as she looked, George could scarcely forbear a smile at her gauze dress: the bottom of its skirt was in shreds. "Will you let me get you something, Charlotte? Or ring for it?" "I don't want anything," she answered. "I shall be all right directly. How could you frighten me so?" "_I_ frighten you!" returned George. "It was not I who frightened you." "Indeed it was. You and no one else. Did you not hear me scream?" "I did." "It was at you, rustling through the trees," persisted Charlotte. "I had gone out to see if the air would relieve this horrid headache, which has been upon me since last night and won't go away. I strolled into the thicket, thinking all sorts of lonely things, never suspecting that you or any one else could be near me. I wonder I did not faint, as well as scream." "Charlotte, what nonsense! You were whispering angrily with some one; some one who escaped in the opposite direction. Who was it?" "I saw no one; I heard no one. Neither was I whispering." He looked at her intently. That she was telling an untruth he believed, for he felt positive that some second person _had_ been there. "Why did you stop me, then, when I would have gone in pursuit?" "It was your fault for attempting to leave me," was Charlotte's answer. "I would not have remained alone for a house full of gold."