and
kissed her.

He heard people coming down the hill.

"Stand up! stand up!" he said thickly, gripping her arm till it hurt. If
he had let go, she would have sunk to the ground.

She sighed and walked dizzily beside him. They went on in silence.

"We will go over the fields," he said; and then she woke up.

But she let herself be helped over the stile, and she walked in silence
with him over the first dark field. It was the way to Nottingham and to
the station, she knew. He seemed to be looking about. They came out on
a bare hilltop where stood the dark figure of the ruined windmill. There
he halted. They stood together high up in the darkness, looking at
the lights scattered on the night before them, handfuls of glittering
points, villages lying high and low on the dark, here and there.

"Like treading among the stars," he said, with a quaky laugh.

Then he took her in his arms, and held her fast. She moved aside her
mouth to ask, dogged and low:

"What time is it?"

"It doesn't matter," he pleaded thickly.

"Yes it does--yes! I must go!"

"It's early yet," he said.

"What time is it?" she insisted.

All round lay the black night, speckled and spangled with lights.

"I don't know."

She put her hand on his chest, feeling for his watch. He felt the joints
fuse into fire. She groped in his waistcoat pocket, while he stood
panting. In the darkness she could see the round, pale face of the
watch, but not the figures. She stooped over it. He was panting till he
could take her in his arms again.

"I can't see," she said.

"Then don't bother."

"Yes; I'm going!" she said, turning away.

"Wait! I'll look!" But he could not see. "I'll strike a match."

He secretly hoped it was too late to catch the train. She saw the
glowing lantern of his hands as he cradled the light: then his face lit
up, his eyes fixed on the watch. Instantly all was dark again. All was
black before her eyes; only a glowing match was red near her feet. Where
was he?

"What is it?" she asked, afraid.

"You can't do it," his voice answered out of the darkness.

There was a pause. She felt in his power. She had heard the ring in his
voice. It frightened her.

"What time is it?" she asked, quiet, definite, hopeless.

"Two minutes to nine," he replied, telling the truth with a struggle.

"And can I get from here to the station in fourteen minutes?"

"No. At any rate--"

She could distinguish his dark form again a yard or so