A number of otherwise
rational human beings scared out of their wits over some mysterious
flames on the edge of the Fens at night time, seemed, in the face of this
glorious summer's afternoon, to be little short of ridiculous. He tried
to throw the idea off but could not. 'Toinette's pale face kept coming
before him; the sudden dropping of her spoon struck an unpleasant chord
in his memory. Brellier's attitude merely added fuel to the fire and soon
they rose to go, Merriton following them to the door.
"Don't forget, then, Miss Brellier, that you are booked to me for a ride
on Thursday," he said, laughingly.
She nodded to him and gave his hand a little squeeze at parting.
"I shall not forget, Sir Nigel. But--you will promise me," her voice
dropped a tone or two, "you will promise me that you will not try and
find out what those--those flames are, won't you? I could not sleep if
you did." And they were gone.
Merriton stood awhile in silence, his brows puckered and his mouth stern.
First Borkins, and then Brellier, and now--_her_! All of them begging him
almost upon their knees to forego a perfectly harmless little quest of
discovery.
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