<SPAN name="chap21"></SPAN>
<h3> CHAPTER XXI. </h3>
<p>When the general stampede occurred Winterborne had also been looking
on, and encountering one of the girls, had asked her what caused them
all to fly.</p>
<p>She said with solemn breathlessness that they had seen something very
different from what they had hoped to see, and that she for one would
never attempt such unholy ceremonies again. "We saw Satan pursuing us
with his hour-glass. It was terrible!"</p>
<p>This account being a little incoherent, Giles went forward towards the
spot from which the girls had retreated. After listening there a few
minutes he heard slow footsteps rustling over the leaves, and looking
through a tangled screen of honeysuckle which hung from a bough, he saw
in the open space beyond a short stout man in evening-dress, carrying
on one arm a light overcoat and also his hat, so awkwardly arranged as
possibly to have suggested the "hour-glass" to his timid observers—if
this were the person whom the girls had seen. With the other hand he
silently gesticulated and the moonlight falling upon his bare brow
showed him to have dark hair and a high forehead of the shape seen
oftener in old prints and paintings than in real life. His curious and
altogether alien aspect, his strange gestures, like those of one who is
rehearsing a scene to himself, and the unusual place and hour, were
sufficient to account for any trepidation among the Hintock daughters
at encountering him.</p>
<p>He paused, and looked round, as if he had forgotten where he was; not
observing Giles, who was of the color of his environment. The latter
advanced into the light. The gentleman held up his hand and came
towards Giles, the two meeting half-way.</p>
<p>"I have lost my way," said the stranger. "Perhaps you can put me in
the path again." He wiped his forehead with the air of one suffering
under an agitation more than that of simple fatigue.</p>
<p>"The turnpike-road is over there," said Giles</p>
<p>"I don't want the turnpike-road," said the gentleman, impatiently. "I
came from that. I want Hintock House. Is there not a path to it
across here?"</p>
<p>"Well, yes, a sort of path. But it is hard to find from this point.
I'll show you the way, sir, with great pleasure."</p>
<p>"Thanks, my good friend. The truth is that I decided to walk across
the country after dinner from the hotel at Sherton, where I am staying
for a day or two. But I did not know it was so far."</p>
<p>"It is about a mile to the house from here."</p>
<p>They walked on together. As there was no path, Giles occasionally
stepped in front and bent aside the underboughs of the trees to give
his companion a passage, saying every now and then when the twigs, on
being released, flew back like whips, "Mind your eyes, sir." To which
the stranger replied, "Yes, yes," in a preoccupied tone.</p>
<p>So they went on, the leaf-shadows running in their usual quick
succession over the forms of the pedestrians, till the stranger said,</p>
<p>"Is it far?"</p>
<p>"Not much farther," said Winterborne. "The plantation runs up into a
corner here, close behind the house." He added with hesitation, "You
know, I suppose, sir, that Mrs. Charmond is not at home?"</p>
<p>"You mistake," said the other, quickly. "Mrs. Charmond has been away
for some time, but she's at home now."</p>
<p>Giles did not contradict him, though he felt sure that the gentleman
was wrong.</p>
<p>"You are a native of this place?" the stranger said.</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Well, you are happy in having a home. It is what I don't possess."</p>
<p>"You come from far, seemingly?"</p>
<p>"I come now from the south of Europe."</p>
<p>"Oh, indeed, sir. You are an Italian, or Spanish, or French gentleman,
perhaps?"</p>
<p>"I am not either."</p>
<p>Giles did not fill the pause which ensued, and the gentleman, who
seemed of an emotional nature, unable to resist friendship, at length
answered the question.</p>
<p>"I am an Italianized American, a South Carolinian by birth," he said.
"I left my native country on the failure of the Southern cause, and
have never returned to it since."</p>
<p>He spoke no more about himself, and they came to the verge of the wood.
Here, striding over the fence out upon the upland sward, they could at
once see the chimneys of the house in the gorge immediately beneath
their position, silent, still, and pale.</p>
<p>"Can you tell me the time?" the gentleman asked. "My watch has
stopped."</p>
<p>"It is between twelve and one," said Giles.</p>
<p>His companion expressed his astonishment. "I thought it between nine
and ten at latest! Dear me—dear me!"</p>
<p>He now begged Giles to return, and offered him a gold coin, which
looked like a sovereign, for the assistance rendered. Giles declined
to accept anything, to the surprise of the stranger, who, on putting
the money back into his pocket, said, awkwardly, "I offered it because
I want you to utter no word about this meeting with me. Will you
promise?"</p>
<p>Winterborne promised readily. He thereupon stood still while the other
ascended the slope. At the bottom he looked back dubiously. Giles
would no longer remain when he was so evidently desired to leave, and
returned through the boughs to Hintock.</p>
<p>He suspected that this man, who seemed so distressed and melancholy,
might be that lover and persistent wooer of Mrs. Charmond whom he had
heard so frequently spoken of, and whom it was said she had treated
cavalierly. But he received no confirmation of his suspicion beyond a
report which reached him a few days later that a gentleman had called
up the servants who were taking care of Hintock House at an hour past
midnight; and on learning that Mrs. Charmond, though returned from
abroad, was as yet in London, he had sworn bitterly, and gone away
without leaving a card or any trace of himself.</p>
<p>The girls who related the story added that he sighed three times before
he swore, but this part of the narrative was not corroborated. Anyhow,
such a gentleman had driven away from the hotel at Sherton next day in
a carriage hired at that inn.</p>
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