Lorraine, A Romance

The sudden memory, the thought of what might have happened, came to her in a flash for the first time. She looked at him--her hands were in his before she could understand why.

"Go on," he whispered.

Her eyes met his half fearfully--she withdrew her fingers with a nervous movement and sat silent.

"Tell me," he urged, and took one of her hands again. She did not withdraw it--she seemed confused; and presently he dropped her hand and sat waiting for her to speak, his heart beating furiously.

"There is not much more to tell," she said at last, in a voice that seemed not quite under control. "I followed the broken bushes and his footmarks along the river until I came to a stone where I think he sat down. He was bleeding, too--my father shot him--and he tore bits of paper and cloth to cover the wound--he even tore up another map. I found part of it, with his name on the back again--not all of it, though, but enough. Here it is."

She handed him a bit of paper. On one side were the fragments of a map in water-colour; on the other, written in German script, he read "Siurd von Steyr."

"It's enough," said Jack; "what a plucky girl you are, anyway!"

"I? You don't think so!--do you?"

"You are the bravest, sweetest--"

"Dear me! You must not say that! You are sadly uneducated, and I see I must take you under my control at once. Man is born to obey! I have decided about your answer to the Herald's telegram."

"May I know the result?" he asked, laughingly.

"To-morrow. There is a brook-lily on the border of the sedge-grass. You may bring it to me."

So began the education of Jack Marche--under the yoke. And Lorraine's education began, too--but she was sublimely unconscious of that fact.

This also is a law in the world.