"
"Enough said!" she cut him short. "You know my wishes; see that they
are fulfilled. You shall hear from me again. For the present,
good-day."
She gathered up the skirts of her dress, turned on her heel, and swept
out of the place.
In the gateway she ran up against Serjeant McKay, who had been
hovering about the stables from the moment he saw Mrs. Wilders enter
the courtyard. He had seen nothing of what passed inside, and as the
interview with Benito occupied some time he had grown uneasy. Fearing
something had happened to the general's wife, he was on the point of
going in to look after her when he met her coming out.
"You have been following me," said Mrs. Wilders, sharply, and jumping
with all a woman's quickness at the right conclusion. "Who set you to
spy on me?"
"I beg your pardon, madam; I am not a spy," said the young serjeant,
formally saluting.
"Don't bandy words with me. Tell me, I insist!"
"The general was afraid something might happen to you. He thought you
might need assistance--perhaps lose your way."
She looked at him very keenly as he said these last words, watching
whether there was any covert satire in them.
But McKay's face betrayed nothing.
"How long have you been at my heels? How much have you seen?"
"I followed you from the Convent, madam, to this door.
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