Ethne's manner constrained him to silence.

She sat very still, still as she wished him to sit, and in a queer huddled attitude; she was even holding her breath; she was staring at Durrance with a great fear in her eyes; her face was strained forward, and not a muscle of it moved, so that Willoughby, as he looked at her, was conscious of a certain excitement, which grew on him for no reason but her remarkable apprehension.

He began unaccountably himself to fear lest he and she should be discovered.
"He is coming towards us," he whispered.
"Not a word, not a movement." "Ethne," Durrance cried again.

He advanced farther into the enclosure and towards the seat.

Ethne and Captain Willoughby sat rigid, watching him with their eyes.