"Shall I tell you what I am thinking of?" asked Tolnay, abruptly, as they walked over the crocuses."
"As you like," said Gretchen, carelessly, not choosing to betray her trepidation.
"I am wishing that I had lived in the age of romance."
His tone was so peculiar that Gretchen looked up in alarm.
"Well," he said, with a harsh laugh, "what are you afraid of? We are all so quiet and sensible, you know, in this age of reason."
"Fräulein," said the Bohemian, hurrying to her side, "there is no need for our crossing this meadow; it is time to be turning homewards: look, the darkness is near."
Gretchen stopped and turned, glad of an interruption. She looked upwards at the sky : the few clouds which floated there were tinged on their lower edge with the glow of rosy sunset. She looked downwards, and saw that already the shadows were growing deep under the trees. She was half inclined to turn. If the Bohemian had not spoken again, she certainly would have turned; but a little too much anxiety is apt to spoil the very object we have at heart, and on this occasion the Bohemian betrayed in his manner a little too much anxiety.
Had he only kept silent while Gretchen was hesitating, all would have been well, but the Fates pushed him to speak.
"Let us turn, Fräulein, and go homewards," he urged with growing eagerness; "there is nothing to be seen over there."
Gretchen looked from the sky to his face, glanced at it, and then looked again with a faintly awakened curiosity. The anxiety in those clear eyes was very apparent. It was evident that he did not wish them to cross this meadow. The consciousness of this fact was enough to double the desire which Gretchen felt for crossing it.
"Is it of robbers you are afraid?" she said; "I think we might risk them. There will be moonlight on the hills to-night to light us on the way home."
"I am not afraid of robbers, Fräulein."
"You cannot suppose that the weather will break: look at the sky, – it seems as if it never could rain again."
"I am not afraid of the weather breaking, Fräulein."
"Is there a spring beyond this meadow?"
There was a spring in that direction, the Bohemian reluctantly admitted, but it was some distance off, – a nearer one had run dry.
"Let us go on then," said Gretchen; "I am longing for the taste of fresh water."
He was silent after this, and led the way slowly over the crocus meadow, but there was a troubled look disturbing the usual peaceful melancholy of his face, which Gretchen did not fail to notice.
They entered the shadow of the forest, Gretchen taking care to keep by her brother's side. Baron Tolnay was in advance, and Dr Komers a little way behind them; Mr Howard still further to the rear.
This was the same spot they had been on once before, on the occasion of their first walk in the mountains, but they had never passed here since. It was a part of the forest little known, and even less trodden by human feet than the rest of the woods around. It did not lie in the usual beat of either hunter or woodcutter.
The aspect of the spot had so changed with the change of the season, that it woke no special
