CHAPTER XX
A LIGHT IN THE FOREST
PHILIPPA spent the rest of that day in a state of anxious indecision. Everything seemed against her. On all sides danger threatened, and her situation was made doubly distressing from the knowledge that there was no one with whom she could take counsel. Her lover, Von Tressen, would be ready enough to advise and protect her, but somehow she shrank from giving him the necessary explanation of her presence in that out-of-the-way region, and her intimacy with Zarka. The thought that they had been seen together in the forest alley filled her with angry shame; she longed for an opportunity of explaining her confidential relations with the Count, yet in the first flush of her love she dared not. What, she asked herself, would Von Tressen think of finding her there with the man she professed to fear and hate? Chance itself seemed to have joined her enemies; if only she had some friend from whom she could frankly seek advice. Her step-father, she felt, was absolutely untrustworthy; selfish and indifferent, he would be only too glad to play into Zarka’s hands. No. She must go through the fight single-handed, unless she could bring herself to call Von Tressen to her aid. Zarka had left her that morning, after the three men had passed, as her open and declared enemy, for she had remained firm in her rejection of his suit. His was one of those positive characters which gather strength from opposition: the blood of half savage, turbulent ancestors ran in his veins; his courtly manner was but an assumed mask, behind which was a strong, unscrupulous, vindictive will. Sooner than admit the success of a rival, he was capable, Philippa felt sure, of betraying her to D’Alquen. Ah, there was danger indeed, when once that fanatical avenger had resolved to strike. Towards sunset she had looked out and fancied she saw the man again watching the farm from his post of observation on the hill. It was horrible in that lonely region to be ever under that wild malignant eye, never knowing when the blow the watcher meditated might fall. Then a maddening thought came to her. What if this man had slandered her to Von Tressen? How much did he know? What tale might he not have told? The Lieutenant had not been to the farm that day. Why was that? Yesterday’s avowal of love should have brought him to her; and yet a whole day had passed and, but for that chance unfortunate rencontre, she had seen nothing of him. Everything seemed in a vortex of doubt and danger. It was more than Philippa could bear, and at last she resolved that, come what might, she would make a bold effort to see her lover without delay. Might not he be in danger too? Zarka had boasted of his power, and of his unscrupulous people. If he could put one man out of the way, why not another? Yes, she would seek Von Tressen at all hazards.
Once her resolve taken she waited impatiently for nightfall, for it was under cover of darkness that she judged it safest to make her way to the encampment. Then, giving the excuse of a headache she bade her step-father good-night, and went to her room, whence she easily slipped out of the house unobserved. She knew pretty well the direction in which the encampment lay; it was not far off, but the night was dark and thundery, and her progress was naturally slow. But she never hesitated or faltered, although the oppressive gloom and silence of the forest, the thought of danger from man or beast, might well have made her nerves play the traitor. On she went steadily, warily, threading her way through the great trees, on and on without a thought but of her purpose, for her situation had made her almost reckless save of one thing, the danger of losing her lover.
She had gone a good distance when the disquieting idea came to her that she had missed her way. The darkness was so impenetrable that it was almost impossible for her to tell in which direction she was going; she had boldly set out and held her course in a straight line, but now she suddenly realized that in that black mass of trees to follow a direct route was, certainly to her inexperience, almost impracticable. For a moment the danger of being lost in the forest rose to her mind; then she beat the thought down, and went on resolutely, trusting that chance would bring her safely to her destination. But chance was not her friend that day.
She calculated that, had she gone direct to the encampment, she must by that time have reached it. So she had evidently missed her way. There was nothing to be done but to keep on, in the hope of lighting upon the camp, since to attempt to retrace her steps would be futile. So she persevered for a while, but all to no purpose. She seemed only to get more hopelessly lost. Becoming desperate at length, and her fears beginning to rise now that her purpose seemed frustrated, she determined as a last resort to try and strike into the valley. Once there she could at least find her way home without much difficulty.
It must lie on her right hand, she thought, so, turning in that direction, she set off once more through the black wood.
Happily the guess at her bearings was correct. Ten minutes of rough groping brought her, greatly to her relief, to the end of the trees on that side of the valley and to clear ground. Here progress was comparatively easy, and the darkness not so paralyzing. As she stood debating whether she should make her way up the valley to the Grange and thence try the path again, or attempt to find her way direct to the encampment, she saw before her at some distance a light. It was very small and lasted but a moment or two, like the striking of a match. Was it some one lighting a cigar? she thought. Von Tressen, perhaps, or Count Zarka? If only it were the Lieutenant. It was not unlikely. The spirit of reckless adventure was on her, and she resolved to go forward and see. So she ran cautiously towards the point whence the light had shone, slackening her pace as she calculated she must be near it, and creeping along so as not to attract attention. Presently she stopped and listened. She was certain she heard men’s voices, and fancied she recognized Von Tressen’s. She quickly followed the sound, but progress now was not so easy; the ground rose steeply on the other side of the narrow valley and the wood was thick again. Still she pressed on, with many a stumble, encouraged by the thought that her lover was so near. Soon the wood became as dark and bewildering as that from which she had lately escaped. Still up and up the girl panted, hoping every moment to hear the welcome voice again, but, though she often stopped to listen, she could not be certain that she heard it. Suddenly a strange phenomenon rose before her sight; the forest, thick as it was, seemed now to present a great, black, impassable wall. Philippa stopped in amazement. Then, as the air grew lighter, the explanation flashed upon her. The great black mass in front of her was not wood but stone; she was outside Rozsnyo.
Scarcely had Philippa realized her whereabouts when she saw a dark object moving in the obscurity a few yards away. She was now standing by the slope of the dry moat. Instinctively she crouched down beside one of the shrubs with which it was planted. The moving figure was a man. He came slowly on, passed close to where she was hidden, and so disappeared in the darkness. But an uncontrollable fascination had made her look up in spite of her fear as he passed, and she recognized him even under those conditions. It was D’Alquen.