AFTER SUNSET
The sun had set. Back from his flight over the hills with Sherrill,
Philip had bathed and shaved, whistling thoughtfully to himself. Now
as he descended the steep Sherrill lane to the valley, ravine and
hollow were already dark with twilight. From the rustling trees
arching the lane overhead came the occasional sleepy chirp and flutter
of a bird. Off somewhere in the gathering dusk a lonely owl hooted
eerily. Still there was storm in the warm, sweet air to-night and back
yonder over the hills to the north, the sky brightened fitfully with
lightning.
Slipping his hand carelessly into his coat pocket for a pipe, Philip
laughed.
"My Lord!" said he lightly. "The hieroglyphical cuff! I should have
given that to the Baron. . . . Themar," added Philip, packing his
pipe, "is an infernal bounder!"
Diane's camp lay barely two miles to the west. Homing at sunset Philip
had veered and circled over it. Now as he turned westward toward the
river, the nature of his errand chafed him sorely.
"Nor can I see," mused Philip, puffing uncomfortably at his pipe, "why
in the devil he wants to know!"
A soft, warm nose suddenly insinuated itself into his hand with a frank
bid for attention and Philip turned. A shaggy, soft-footed shadow was
waggling along at his heels, Dick's favorite setter.
"Hello, old top!" exclaimed Philip cheerfully. "When did you hit the
trail?"
Old Top barked joyously but didn't appear to remember.
"Well," said Philip, lazily patting the dog's head, "you're welcome
anyway. I'm a diplomat to-night," he added humorously, "bound upon a
'mission of exceeding delicacy' and only a companion of your
extraordinary reticence and discretion would be welcome."
Man and dog turned aside into a crossroad. It was very dark now, the
only spot of cheer save for the lightning behind the hills, the coal of
Philip's pipe.
"Tell me, old man," begged Philip whimsically, "what would you do? May
we not wander casually into camp and look at my beautiful gypsy lady
without fussing unduly about this infernal mission? More and more do
we dislike it. And in the morning we may respectfully rebel. Ah, an
excellent point, Nero. To be sure our chief will be very smooth and
insistent but we ourselves, you recall, have possibilities of extreme
firmness. And the lady is Diane, though we only call her that, old
top, among ourselves.
"Splendid decision!" exclaimed Philip presently with intense
satisfaction. "Nero, you've been an umpire. We'll rebel.
Nevertheless, we must assure ourselves that the camp of our lady is
ready for storm."
It was. Following a forest path, Philip presently caught the flicker
of a camp fire ahead. There was a huge tarpaulin over the wagon and a
canopy above the horses. Storm-proof tents loomed dimly among the
trees. A brisk little man whose apple cheeks and grizzled whiskers
Philip instantly approved, trotted importantly about among the horses,
humming a jerky melody. Johnny was fifty and looked a hundred, but
those unwary ones who had felt the steely grip of his sinewy fingers
were apt evermore to respect him.
Diane was piling wood upon the fire with the careless grace of a
splendid young savage. The light of the camp fire danced ruddily upon
her slim, brown arms and throat bared to the rising wind. A beautiful,
restless gypsy of fire and wind, she looked, at one with the
storm-haunted wood about her.
There came a patter of rain upon the forest leaves. The tents were
flapping and the fire began to flare. There were curious wind crackles
all about him, and Nero had begun to sniff and whine. Somewhere--off
there among the trees--Philip fancied he caught the stealthy pad of a
footfall and the crackle of underbrush. Every instinct of his body
focusing wildly upon the thought of harm to Diane, he whirled swiftly
about, colliding as he did so with something--vague, formless,
heavy--that leaped, crouching, from the shadows and bore him to the
ground. The lightning flared savagely upon steel. Philip felt a
blinding thud upon his head, a sharp, stinging agony along his shoulder.
Somewhere in the forest--a great way off he thought--a dog was barking
furiously.