"Mule meat's mighty temptin'," said the girl sententiously and passed on. I wanted to thank her; I wanted to say how sorry I was that she had been disturbed; I wanted to compliment her on her quiet midnight courage, and yet warn her against recklessness; I wanted to know whether she had been accustomed to such alarms; and if the gun she carried was really a necessity. But I could only respect her reticence, and I was turning away when I was struck by a more inexplicable spectacle. As she neared the end of the extension I distinctly saw the tall figure of a man, moving with a certain diffidence and hesitation that did not, however, suggest any intention of concealment, among the trees; the girl apparently saw him at the same moment and slightly slackened her pace. Not more than a dozen feet separated them. He said something that was inaudible to my ears,--but whether from his hesitation or the distance I could not determine. There was no such uncertainty in her reply, however, which was given in her usual curt fashion: "All right. You can trapse along home now and turn in."
She turned the corner of the extension and disappeared. The tall figure of the man wavered hesitatingly for a moment, and then vanished also. But I was too much excited by curiosity to accept this unsatisfactory conclusion, and, hastily picketing Chu Chu a few rods from the front door, I ran after him, with an instinctive feeling that he had not gone far. I was right. A few paces distant he had halted in the same dubious, lingering way. "Hallo!"
I said.
He turned towards me in the like awkward fashion, but with neither astonishment nor concern.
"Come up and take a drink with me before you go," I said, "if you're not in a hurry. I'm alone here, and since I HAVE turned out I don't see why we mightn't have a smoke and a talk together."
"I dursn't."
I looked up at the six feet of strength before me and repeated wonderingly, "Dare not?"
"SHE wouldn't like it." He made a movement with his right shoulder towards the extension.
"Who?"
"Miss Karline."
"Nonsense!" I said. "She isn't in the cabin,--you won't see HER.
Come along." He hesitated, although from what I could discern of his bearded face it was weakly smiling.
"Come."
He obeyed, following me not unlike Chu Chu, I fancied, with the same sense of superior size and strength and a slight whitening of the eye, as if ready to shy at any moment. At the door he "backed." Then he entered sideways. I noticed that he cleared the doorway at the top and the sides only by a hair's breadth.
By the light of the fire I could see that, in spite of his full first growth of beard, he was young,--even younger than myself,--and that he was by no means bad-looking. As he still showed signs of retreating at any moment, I took my flask and tobacco from my saddle-bags, handed them to him, pointed to the stool, and sat down myself upon the bed.
"You live near here?"
"Yes," he said a little abstractedly, as if listening for some interruption, "at Ten Mile Crossing."
"Why, that's two miles away."
"I reckon."
"Then you don't live here--on the clearing?"
"No. I b'long to the mill at 'Ten Mile.'"
"You were on your way home?"
"No," he hesitated, looking at his pipe; "I kinder meander round here at this time, when Johnson's away, to see if everything's goin' straight."
"I see--you're a friend of the family."
"'Deed no!" He stopped, laughed, looked confused, and added, apparently to his pipe, "That is, a sorter friend. Not much.
SHE"--he lowered his voice as if that potential personality filled the whole cabin--"wouldn't like it."
"Then at night, when Johnson's away, you do sentry duty round the house?"
"Yes, 'sentry dooty,' that's it,"--he seemed impressed with the suggestion--"that's it! Sentry dooty. You've struck it, pardner."
"And how often is Johnson away?"
"'Bout two or three times a week on an average."
"But Miss Caroline appears to be able to take care of herself. She has no fear."
"Fear! Fear wasn't hangin' round when SHE was born!" He paused.
"No, sir. Did ye ever look into them eyes?"
I hadn't, on account of the lashes. But I didn't care to say this, and only nodded.
"There ain't the created thing livin' or dead, that she can't stand straight up to and look at."
I wondered if he had fancied she experienced any difficulty in standing up before that innocently good-humored face, but I could not resist saying:--
"Then I don't see the use of your walking four miles to look after her."
I was sorry for it the next minute, for he seemed to have awkwardly broken his pipe, and had to bend down for a long time afterwards to laboriously pick up the smallest fragments of it. At last he said, cautiously:
"Ye noticed them bits o' flannin' round the chillern's throats?"
I remembered that I had, but was uncertain whether it was intended as a preventive of cold or a child's idea of decoration. I nodded.
