CHAPTER VII.
THE STRANGER WITHIN THE GATES Sue waited--expectant and still--until the last sound of the young man's footsteps had died away in the direction of the house.
Then with quick impulsive movements she ran to the gate; her hands sought impatiently in the dark for the primitive catch which held it to.
A large and rusty bolt! she pulled at it--clumsily, for her hands were trembling.

At last the gate flew open; she was out in the woods, peering into the moonlit thicket, listening for that most welcome sound, the footsteps of the man she loved.
"My prince!" she exclaimed, for already he was beside her--apparently he had lain in wait for her, and now held her in his arms.
"My beautiful and gracious lady," he murmured in that curiously muffled voice of his, which seemed to endow his strange personality with additional mystery.
"You heard?
...

you saw just now?
..." she asked timidly, fearful of encountering his jealous wrath, that vehement temper of his which she had learned to dread.
Strangely enough he replied quite gently: "Yes ...

I saw ...

the young man loves you, my beautiful Suzanne! ...