Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/219

Rh "Follow me, Eileen."

"I am coming," she answered; "wait for me: I cannot see you." She ran fast along the rough mountain road, till her breath failed her.

"Oh! wait for me!" she gasped; "it is so dark."

"Follow me, Eileen." The voice was close beside her—amongst the few fir trees that clustered together beside a murmuring brook.

She sprang from the road with a laugh, and bounded amongst the deep fern and pricking gorse. The briars caught her dress and tore it, they clung about her ankles, leaving red marks of their caresses. She stretched her arms wide, to hold the beloved. "Follow me, Eileen." The voice was far away. She struggled back to the road, sobbing and crying, "Ah, you are cruel; I will follow you no more."

"Follow me, Eileen." The voice had a plaintive note now. She stretched her hands towards it, but did not answer. She crouched by the wayside, and hid her face. Surely he was playing with her, to treat her so; and yet—she raised her head to listen.

"Follow me, Eileen." The voice grew fainter, further off. She sprang to her feet and ran, afraid to lose the sound. Once again she