A Figure In The Straw

Old Petermann had shut the cabin door behind him and discreetly left the young people together. Seeing little in the deep gloom and his eyes blinking wherever he turned them, Alban stood almost knee-deep in straw and cried Lois' name aloud.

"Lois--where are you, Lois--why don't you answer me?"

She crept from the depths at his very feet and shaking the straw from her pretty hair, she stood upright and put both her hands upon his shoulders.

"I am here, Alb dear, just waiting for you. Won't you kiss me, Alb dear?"

He put his arms about her neck and kissed her at her wish--just as a brother might have kissed a sister in the hour of her peril.

"I came at once, Lois," he said, "of course I did not understand that it would be like this. Why are you here? Whatever has happened--what does it all mean? Will you not teach me to understand, Lois?"

"Sit by my side, Alb dear, sit down and listen to me. I want you to know what your friends have been doing. Oh, I have been so lonely, so frightened, and I don't deserve that. You know that my father is in prison, Alb--the Count told you that?"

"I heard it before I left England, Lois. You did not answer my letters?"

"I was ashamed to, dear. That was the first thing they taught me at the school--to be ashamed to write to you until you would not be ashamed to read my letters. Can't you understand, Alb? Wasn't I right to be ashamed?"