The river lapped softly against the bank, and somewhere above my head
the leaves rustled dismally.
"Dear little Imp, if it were only true!"
Once again the sound came to me, low and restrained, but a sob
unmistakably.
On the other side of the giant tree I beheld a figure half sitting,
half lying. The shadow was deep here, but as I stooped the kindly moon
sent down a shaft of silver light, and I saw a lovely, startled face,
with great, tear-dimmed eyes.
"Lisbeth!" I exclaimed; then, prompted by a sudden thought, I glanced
hastily around.
"I am alone," she said, interpreting my thought aright.
"But--here--and--and at such an hour!" I stammered foolishly. She
seemed to be upon her feet in one movement, fronting me with flashing
eyes.
"I came to look for the Imp. I found this on his pillow. Perhaps you
will explain?" and she handed me a crumpled paper.