Perhaps Mostyn caught the infection of her nervousness; at any rate, there were moments when he, too, heard, or imagined he heard, the sound of the cracking of dry wood, as if the twigs were being broken under a heavy heel. Once he halted and cried out, "Who's there?" but there was no reply, and he comforted his trembling little companion with the assurance that they were both in safety. It was he who was self-possessed now, for they stood in a different relation to each other. He was the man, and Rada was just a sensitive, frightened girl, who needed his support and protection. That walk through the wood, small event as it was, was not without its effect upon Mostyn's subsequent relations with Rada. Whether they were being followed or not, they reached the gardener's cottage in safety, and presently the door was opened to them by Mrs. Willis herself, a homely, comfortable woman with an engaging smile. Rada quickly explained her wish to stay at the cottage; then she turned to Mostyn, and once more extended her hand. "Thank you for bringing me," she murmured, "and if I said things to make you cross, please forgive me." She was altogether charming at that moment, and once more the touch of her fingers sent a thrill through Mostyn's whole being. "Shall I see you to-morrow?" he asked hastily. "I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders. "I may go back home, I may not; I always act on impulse." She was smiling now, secure in the company of the gardener's wife. Presently, with a nod and a smile, she disappeared into the cottage, and Mostyn was left to make his way back to the Grange alone. This time there was no sound in the wood on either side of him, and he was quite certain that his footsteps were not dogged. It must have been imagination, after all. He thought of Rada as he walked. "What a witch she is," he muttered, "and how she fascinates me! Do I hate her, I wonder, or----" He did not finish the phrase, perhaps because he could not answer the question. CHAPTER IX. MOSTYN MAKES A PURCHASE. At an unreasonably early hour the next morning Mostyn, who had slept peacefully enough in his new quarters, was aroused by the advent of Willis, the gardener. The latter, as on the day before, seemed concerned as to the reception which might be offered him. He rubbed his lantern jaws nervously with a work-hardened forefinger while he informed Mostyn that it was a fine day, and that he had brought up the hot water for shaving. "How's the boy?" asked Mostyn, stretching himself and yawning, but half awake.