race took the little path along its edge. Her feet made no
noise and her tweed dress harmonized with the subdued coloring of dead
leaves and trunks. The light was not good and she thought she would not
be visible a short distance off; besides the sportsmen might be at the
other side of the wood. She hoped they were, since she vaguely perceived
that if Osborn saw her it would force a crisis she was not yet ready to
meet. Then her thoughts were disturbed, for somebody in the wood shouted:
"Mark cock flying low to right!"

A gunshot rang out close by and a small brown bird, skimming the top of
the hedge, fluttered awkwardly across the road. Next moment dry twigs
rustled and a young man leaped on to the grass with a smoking gun in his
hand. As he threw it to his shoulder, Kit ran forward and struck the
barrel. There was a flash and while the echoes of the report rolled
across the wood a little puff of smoke floated about the men. Grace stood
still, trembling, for she knew she had run some risk of being shot.

"Why don't you look before you shoot?" Kit shouted in a strange, hoarse
voice. "You've no business to use a gun on a public road. It's lucky I
was quick."

"That is so; my fault!" gasped the other, who took off his cap as he
turned to Grace. "Very sorry, Miss Osborn; didn't see you. Wanted to get
the woodcock. Hope you're not startled much."

Grace forced a smile. She had physical courage and was shaken rather by
what she saw in Kit's face than the risk she had run. Kit looked
strangely white and strained. He had obviously got a bad shock, but she
thought he would not have looked like that had he saved anybody else from
the other's gun.

"My dress is hard to see against the trees. You really needn't be
disturbed," she said.

The young man renewed his confused apologies, and when he pushed through
the hedge and they went on again Grace looked at Kit. He had not got his
color back, his lips were set and his gaze was fixed. The shock had
broken his control and brought her enlightenment. He loved her, but she
needed time and quietness to grapple with the situation. Her heart beat
and her nerves tingled; she could not see the line she ought to take. Yet
he must be thanked.

"You were very quick," she said as calmly as possible although she was
conscious of a curious pride in him. "Somehow I knew if there was need
for quickness you would act like that. I believe I was stupid enough to
stand still until you jumped. We