But those few minutes at the king's
window had been fatal to the scheme he had built. The girl had seen
him. She had not betrayed his presence. She had called to him with her
eyes--he would have staked his life on that. What did it all mean? He
turned to Obadiah. The old man was grimacing and twisting his hands
nervously. He seemed half afraid, cringing, as if fearing a blow. The
sight of him set Nathaniel's blood afire. His white face seemed to
verify the terrible thought that had leaped into his brain. Suddenly he
heard a faint cry--a woman's voice--and in an instant he was back at the
window. The girl had risen to her feet and stood facing him. This time,
as her eyes met his own, he saw in them a flashing warning, and he
obeyed it as if she had spoken to him. As he dropped silently back to
the ground the councilor came close to his side.
"That's enough for to-night, Nat," he whispered.
He made as if to slip away but Nathaniel detained him with an emphatic
hand.
"Not yet, Dad! I'd like to have a word with--this--"
"With Strang's wife," chuckled Obadiah. "Ho, ho, ho, Nat, you're a
rascal!" The old man's face was mapped with wrinkles, his eyes glowed
with joyous approbation. "You shall, Nat, you shall! You love a pretty
face, eh? You shall meet Mrs. Strang, Nat, and you shall make love to
her if you wish. I swear that, too. But not to-night, Nat--not
to-night."
He stood a pace away and rubbed his hands.
"There will be no chance to-night, Nat--but to-morrow night, or the
next.
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