Fully determined that there must be no scandal, Dick resolved to await
his opportunity, and then confront his cousin, to demand of him that he
should quickly vacate his position; and, to this end, he watched for a
chance to meet him somewhere quite alone. But he very soon became aware
of the fact that not only had Mark recognised, but avoided, him, till
one day, when idling along about a couple of miles from the town, there
was Mark ahead, going on in front, as if inviting him to follow, and
leading him on right away.
What Mark's object was in following his devious course along the lanes
more and more into the country Richard Frayne did not pause to consider;
all he thought was that at last, after many efforts, he was going to run
his cousin down, and bring him to bay right away from the possibility of
interruption, and where, out in the open fields, they would, for the
time being, occupy the position not of officer and private--with the
tremendous barrier of rank between them, which was like some large
breastwork protecting Mark from assault--but as man to man.
And there, a few hundred yards in advance, Mark walked rapidly on, never
once, as far as his cousin could see, looking back, though Richard felt
sure that he was aware of being followed, and was awaiting his
opportunity to get out of sight and then make for the town.
Richard knew that by running he might now overtake the young officer,
but he left this for a last resource, meaning to walk steadily on until
he caught up to Mark or forced him to turn back and meet him face to
face.
The way grew more rural and secluded, and the chalk hills, with their
sides broken up by frost and weathering, stood out white, and dotted
with patches of heath and bracken. Here and there a dense copse could
be seen, while in sheltered hollows--forming in the distance what looked
like squares worked in tapestry patterns--was a huge fabric of green,
looped and flowered, where the hops hung in luxuriant grape-like
clusters.
Every now and then Mark was lost to sight, as he plunged into some
copse, following a devious footpath, but Richard caught sight of him
again soon after. Then the quarry was missed once more, as he crossed
one of the hop-gardens; yet, always the same, Richard dogged him with
unerring patience for hours.
"What does he mean?" thought Richard at last. "He can't know I am
following him. He is simply having a long walk to keep himself in
training, and will soon turn back."
At last, about half an hour after passing a long village lying low down
in a hollow among the hills, and where there was no sign of farmhouse or
cottage anywhere in the broken, wooded landscape, Mark plunged into a
great patch of coppice, which had been cut down for hop-poles a few
years before, and had sprung up again, forming a dense wilderness of
ash, hazel, and sweet chestnut, running right up a steep, bank-like
hill, away below which, well sheltered from the north and westerly
gales, lay another of the many hop-fields, heavy with its green and
golden bines.
Here all at once Richard found himself at fault, and he stood gazing
onward, with a feeling of annoyance rapidly growing as the thought came
insistent that, after all, he was to have his long, exciting walk for
nothing.
Only a few minutes before he had seen the erect figure pass in among the
trees, and it must, he felt, be exactly where he stood; but there was no
sight of it going onward, and, as far as he could make out, there was no
lane near, unless one passed over by the red-brick building which topped
an eminence to the right--a building with a couple of the great cowls of
the hop-kilns rising from its roof.
"He must have made for these," thought Richard. And feeling pretty
certain that if he took a short cut down through the hop-garden he would
strike the track, and find his cousin coming up the lane deep down in
the coppice, or passing onward on his return, he passed rapidly on.
Down he went along the steep slope, threading the tall, thin
growing-poles to right and left, till he came suddenly upon the edge of
the hop-garden, with its little hills, each squared by its four poles,
running in direct lines, and forming shady alleys, completely embowered
in many places by the vines which festooned the poles and leaped over
from side to side.
Keeping to the edge of the garden for a few yards, and passing alley
after alley, till he came upon the end of one which looked fairly open,
and which ran in the direction of the oast-house on the hill, Richard
was about to plunge down this, when, all at once, there was a sharp,
thin sound, followed by the loud whirr of wings, as an early covey of
strongly-pinioned partridges, alarmed by the crack, sprang up, and flew
over the tops of the poles, completely hidden by the vines.
Eager and excited now, Richard passed into the next alley and the next,
gazing sharply down them for him who had struck that match to light a
cigar.
"At last!" he said to himself; for not a dozen yards down the next--a
particularly dark, thickly-embowered lane of verdure--there stood Mark,
with his back to him, holding a second match to his cigar, from which
the grey smoke rose up, to disappear amid the vine-like leaves.
Drawing a long breath, Richard walked down this alley. But Mark did not
move, standing, coolly smoking there, till his cousin was within a
couple of yards, when he started round as if surprised, and the two
young men stood in the greenish twilight of that solitude, utterly
hidden, while in all probability there was not a human being within a
couple of miles.
"Ah, my lad," said Mark, quietly, "having a walk? Rather hot."