“It would appear so.”

“A very hollow one, if I may criticise.  That youngster moves like a deer. . . .  And what is his reward to be?—­another glance of these bright eyes?  Ah, Miss Josselin, you make fools—­and heroes—­of us all!”

Ruth turned from him to applaud young Lemuel, who came darting into the enclosure.

“See old Jonathan!” panted the boy, looking back and laughing.  “That’s how they ran at Louisbourg. . . .  Miss Josselin, you should have made it a mile and I’d have shown you some broken-winded ones.”  He laughed again and turned in apology to Mr. Silk.  “I’ll take your horse to stable, sir, if you’ll let me catch my breath.”

The others came straggling up, a little abashed at sight of the stranger, but not surprised out of their good manners.

“A clergyman?” said Jonathan.  “My father will be home before sundown, sir.  He will be proud if you can stay and have dinner with us.”

Mr. Silk explained that he had ridden over from Natchett to call on Miss Josselin and had but an hour to spare.  They insisted, however, that he must eat before leaving, and they led away his horse to bait, leaving him and Ruth together.

“Will you come into the house?” she asked.

“With your leave we can talk better here. . . .  So you guessed that I made one of the party?  Miss Vyell told me.”

“It was not difficult to guess.”

“And you admired my courage?”

Ruth’s eyebrows went up to a fine arch.  “When you were careful to keep in hiding?”

“From motives of delicacy, believe me.  It occurred to me that Lady Caroline might—­er—­speak her mind, and I had no wish to be distressed by it, or to distress you with my presence.”

“I thank you for so much delicacy, sir.”

“But Lady Caroline—­let us do her justice!  She calls a spade a spade, but there’s no malice in it.  You stood up to her, I gather.  We’ve been discussing you this morning, and you may take my word she don’t think the worse of you for it.  They’re sportsmen, these high-born people.  I come of good family myself, and know the sort.  ’Slog and take a slogging; shake hands and no bad blood’—­that’s their way.  The fine old British way, after all.”  Mr. Silk puffed his cheeks and blew.

“You have been discussing me with Lady Caroline?”

“Yes,” he answered flatly.  “Yes,” he repeated, and rolled his eyes.  “All for your good, you know.  Of course she started by calling you names and taking the worst for granted.  But I wouldn’t have that.”

“Go on, sir, if you please.”

“I wouldn’t have it, because I didn’t believe it.  If I did—­hang it!—­ I shouldn’t be here.  You might do me that justice.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m coming to that; but first I want you to open your eyes to the position.  You may think it’s all very pretty and romantic and like Fair Rosamond—­without the frailty as yet:  that’s granted.  But how will it end?  Eh?  That’s the question, if you’d bring your common sense to bear on it.”