Why had he glanced up—quite in that way?. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. This girl whom he had met by chance and befriended had done both. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. "I'll see him fettered myself.
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