The Washington times., 1913-05-05
Z she were slain. Wat surely would be

Nothing else mattered.
Crack-brained. no doubt! But Thom-
sine was at the age of daring dreams.
With such end in View she plowed
along the heavy road. Once she turned
her ankle. Indeed, she found the satin
slippers, Incased in Carisford's lawful
boots, the most insecure and d!scom-
Portable footgear that ever she had
worn
She was still hobbling with plan when
she heard, little behind her. in the
hedge-row on the left, a harsh rustling
that might be made by cattle or by
mans breaking through.
On first impulse she tried to quicken
her pace, but in a second she realized
that she could not hope to outstrip the
man-if man II were!-that followed her,
Better let him pass.
after all, what had she to fear? So
she trudged on, Indifferent. to outward
seeming, but with every nerve and
muscle taut in the effort of listening.
He would pass. or at least overtake
soned.
If 1t were not She breathed more
quickly. For she knew all the ways
were (hronged with padders, and sne
saw the fields around her lonely in
the mist.
But If the man purposed to set upon
her. why didn't he do SO and have it
over with? she wondered, fretfully.
Surely. he could not hope for a better
place.
In a quarter of a mile she would be
at the fork OF the road. which led on
the right to Walset and on the left to
Shankton End. A quarter of a mile
further. over the hill. she should be
safe in Walset village. II he meant to
attack. why did he delay?
1t could not be that he was merely
dogging her heels. More likely she had
imagined him. Yes, she was sure that
she heard no sound behind her. She
would look. and. Of course. she should
see nothing,
Yet with as much caution as IL she
ped and made a feint of tying her gar
ter, while she shot a second-long,
scared glance behind her.
Then she went on her way, tense rs
wire. tingling in every vein.
For in that second she had seen the
impossible. and she knew that behind
her calmly following in her footsteps
brown, slender, unmistakable to her
who had studied him for two hours
overnight-walked Won Kerstenbroock
himself
Not having read Jack Aubrey's let
ter. Thomsine had no suspician of the
time that Won Kertenbrooc6 had spent
in waiting at the ford for his second.
at that moment comfortably in ward,
nor did she realize the predicament that
he was in. stark ignorant OF the ways
round oxford, yet unable to question.
lest by his very accent he betray him.
self and be delivered over to those
whom he knew to be upon his tracks.
But, thanks to woman's intuition. or
to loves inspiration. she made guess
at the truth. She Judged that he was
not sure Of the way to Walset; that he
had recognized her. and tfat he FOL
lowed in the calm assumption that she
was bound TO her brother and so event
ually would lead him to the Held that
he was seeking.
At that moment out OF the gray mist
doomed a thicket OF hawthorn, hung
with drops Of gray, and beneath those
dripping boughs the highroad forked
To the right was Walset, to the left
Shankton End and all the wide world
that was not the place appointed FOR
Wat Musgroves slaughter.
On Thomsines brain there flashed A
picture; a hazel copse by Allenthorn,
with an autumn sky above. and part,
ridge with drooped wing that futtered
down a abbit-path. almost beneath
her outstretched, eager hand, while in
quite opposite direction scuttied the
downy brood that. by her desperate
strategem. the mother bird would save
Thomsine drew a quick breath, and
neither slackening nor quickening pace.
- 80 io|'
Did he follow still She dared not
turn her head to make sure. Whatever
befell, he must not cream tndl sic
knew him to be at Ter heels.
In narrowing uncertainty she plodded
on. One moment she was sure that lie
had turned back; next moment she was
equally sure that he still strode In her
wake In panic she asked herself what
would be the end. in the moment that
must inevitably come. when she should
he oyertaken. But against that moment
she made no plan. She was merely re
solved to walk on and on and on.
away from Walset, until she fell in her
tracks.
thickened around her. making the broad
da, , seem the rack of night. she spied
the dripping thatch of the outermOst
cottage OF Shankton End. To enter the
village was beside her purpose.
He might ask questions OF the village
folk, If hapIv he followed still. At right
angles to the highway she spied lane
upon her left. and blithcly she swung
into it. As she made the turn she was
able to glimpse behind her brown.
slender figure that Jagged beneath the
hedge. God be thanked that he fol-
lowed still,
Through deeD ruts and holes of water
and over rideed hummocks of turf she
tramped down the lane. once she tore
her hands as she struck branch of
thorn from her path. But she knew
that he followed. and In that knowledge
she cared not for the way or the end
OF the way.
She came to a fork in the lane. To
left a footpath. and to righ- a foot
path, She could spare no time for irdi-
cision while she felt his eyes upon fer.
She turned to the right. and folio" cd
a path that grew, with each furlonS.
THICKER with grass. more overhung with
brambles less distinct.
"Oh, good path. 20 on: Dear God.
let il GO on she found herself man.
bling: but for all her PRAYER she saw
that the sorry path IN which she hal
NM her trust was !ncxorablv dynG-
ling.
BraveIy she trudged the last indis-
tirct rods, through hazel bushes lhat
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