"
"Naturally you are uneasy about your father, but I cannot think he will
come to any immediate harm. Why Brocton should send him north instead of
south is, I confess, a mystery, but to-morrow will solve it. And what else
makes you uneasy?"
"You," she replied, very low and brief.
"I? And pray, madam, what have I done to make you uneasy?"
"Met me." Still the same tone.
"I am not able to talk to you in the modish manner, nor do I think you
would wish me to try to ape my betters, so I say plainly that our meeting
has not made me uneasy. Why then you?"
"Had you not met me, you would now be asleep at the Hanyards, a free and
happy country gentleman. Instead you are here, a suspect, a refugee, an
outlaw, one tainted with rebellion, the jail for certain if you are
caught, and then--"
She broke off abruptly, and I think I heard a low sob.
"And then?"
"Perhaps the gibbet."
"It's true that the thieving craft is a curst craft for the gallows, but
to-morrow's trouble is like yesterday's dinner, not worth thinking on. We
are here, safe and comfortable. Let that suffice. And to-day, so far from
doing harm at which you must needs be uneasy, you have wrought a miracle.
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