If I could be sure that the moon had not deceived me, the most beautiful
face that I had ever seen was looking down on us--and it was the face of
a man! By the uncertain light I could discern the perfection of form in
the features, and the expression of power which made it impossible to
mistake the stranger for a woman, although his hair grew long and he was
without either moustache or beard. He was watching us intently; he
neither moved nor spoke when we looked up at him.
"Evidently the lodger," I whispered to Cristel. "What a handsome man!"
She tossed her head contemptuously: my expression of admiration seemed to
have irritated her.
"I didn't want him to see you!" she said. "The lodger persecutes me with
his attentions; he's impudent enough to be jealous of me."
She spoke without even attempting to lower her voice. I endeavored to
warn her. "He's at the window still," I said, in tones discreetly
lowered; "he can hear everything you are saying."
"Not one word of it, Mr. Gerard."
"What do you mean?"
"The man is deaf. Don't look at him again. Don't speak to me again. Go
home--pray go home!"
Without further explanation, she abruptly entered the cottage, and shut
the door.
As I turned into the path which led through the wood I heard a voice
behind me. It said: "Stop, sir." I stopped directly, standing in the
shadow cast by the outermost line of trees, which I had that moment
reached.
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