She stared into that haggard face, and through the half-mask of
stubbly beard gradually made out the features of her brother.
"Richard!" The name broke from her in a scream.
"'Sh!" He waved his hands in wild alarm to repress her. "For God's
sake, be quiet! It's a ruined man I am they find me here. You'll
have heard what's happened to me?"
She nodded, and uttered a half-strangled "Yes."
"Is there anywhere you can hide me? Can you get me into the house
without being seen? I am almost starving, and my leg is on fire. I
was wounded three days ago to make matters worse than they were
already. I have been lying in the woods there watching for the
chance to find you alone since sunrise this morning, and it's devil
a bite or sup I've had since this time yesterday."
"Poor, poor Richard!" She leaned down towards him in an attitude of
compassionate, ministering grace. "But why? Why did you not come
up to the house and ask for me? No one would have recognised you."
"Terence would if he had seen me."
"But Terence wouldn't have mattered. Terence will help you."
"Terence!" He almost laughed from excess of bitterness, labouring
under an egotistical sense of wrong. "He's the last man I should
wish to meet, as I have good reason to know.
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