Page:Walpole--portrait of man with red hair.djvu/221

 shouted with all his might: "Dunbar! Dunbar! Dunbar!"

He waited. There was no answer. Only the fog seemed to grow closer. He turned to her and said:

"Don't you think the fog's clearing a little?"

She shook her head. There was still a little quaver in her voice: "I'm afraid not. You're saying that to cheer me up. You needn't. I'm not frightened. Think how lucky I am to have you with me. You mightn't have come back. You might have missed your way for hours."

When he thought of how nearly he had missed his way for ever and ever he trembled. He mustn't let his thoughts wander in those paths; he was here to make her feel happy and safe until Dunbar came. They sat down on the stone together, and he put his arm around her to hold her there and to keep her warm.

"Now what shall we talk about?" she asked him.

"Ourselves," he answered her. "We have a splendid opportunity. Here we are, cut off by the fog, away from every one in the world. We know nothing about one another, or almost nothing. We can scarcely see one another's faces. It is a wonderful opportunity."

"Well, you tell me about yourself first."

"Ah! there's the trouble. I'm so terribly dull. I've never been or thought or said anything interest-