Somehow, it was worse here than
indoors. She made the whole countryside seem lonely as the grave,
with none but us two in it, and no help in the wide world.
Once I tried to go back; but she turned and looked at me, and it was
as if she had dragged me with ropes. After that I followed her like
a dog. We came to the village, and she led me through it, past the
church and the blacksmith's shop, and down the lane to Mr.
Ranford's. Mr. Ranford's house stands close to the road: a plain
old-fashioned building, with a flagged path leading to the door
between box-borders. The lane was deserted, and as I turned into it,
I saw Emma Saxon pause under the old elm by the gate. And now
another fear came over me. I saw that we had reached the end of our
journey, and that it was my turn to act. All the way from Brympton I
had been asking myself what she wanted of me, but I had followed in
a trance, as it were, and not till I saw her stop at Mr. Ranford's
gate did my brain begin to clear itself. It stood a little way off
in the snow, my heart beating fit to strangle me, and my feet frozen
to the ground; and she stood under the elm and watched me.
I knew well enough that she hadn't led me there for nothing. I felt
there was something I ought to say or do--but how was I to guess
what it was? I had never thought harm of my mistress and Mr.
Ranford, but I was sure now that, from one cause or another, some
dreadful thing hung over them. _She_ knew what it was; she would
tell me if she could; perhaps she would answer if I questioned her.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131