‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly. Still silence everywhere. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. ‘Now what?’ The guard jerked his head up the corridor. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns.
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