And the experienced ancient succeeded in precipitating the crisis of the
situation with magical promptness, for Caroline sprang to her feet,
turned with a shudder and buried her head in Andrew's hunting coat
somewhere near the left string for cartridge loops. She clung to him in
abject terror.
"Sweetheart!" he exclaimed, giving her a little shake, "it's only a cross
old owl--don't be frightened," and he raised her cheek against his own
and drew her nearer. But Caroline trembled and clung and seemed unable to
face the situation. Andrew essayed further reassurance by turning his
head until his lips pressed a tentative kiss against the curve of her
chin.
"He can't get you," he entreated and managed a still closer embrace.
"Is he still there?" came in a muffled voice from against his neck where
Caroline had again buried her head at a slight crackling from the dark
branches overhead.
"I think he is, bless him!" answered Andrew, and this time the kiss
managed a landing on the warm lips under the eyes raised to his.
And then ensued several breathless moments while the world reeled around
and the vital elemental force that is sometimes cruel, sometimes kind,
turned the wheel of their universe.
"I'm not frightened any more," Caroline at last managed to say as she
prepared to withdraw, not too decisively, from her strong-armed refuge.
"He's still there," warned Andrew Sevier with a happy laugh, and Caroline
yielded again for a second, then drew his arms aside.
"Thank you--I'm not afraid any more--of anything," she said, laughing
into his eyes, "and I really think we had better try to get back to camp
and supper, for I don't hear the dogs any longer. We don't want to be
lost like the 'babes in the woods' and left to die out here, do we?"
"Are you sure we haven't gone and stumbled into heaven, anyway?" demanded
Andrew.
He then proceeded to roll the collar of her sweater higher about her ears
and to pull the long sleeves down over her hands. He even bent to stretch
the garment an inch or two nearer the tops of her boots.
"Are you cold?" he demanded anxiously, for a stiff wind had risen and
blew upon them with icy breath.
"Not a single bit," she answered, submitting herself to his anxious
ministrations with her most engaging six-going-on-seven manner. Then she
caught one of his fumbling hands in hers and pressed it to her cheek for
a moment.
"Now," she said, "we can never be lonely any more, can we? I'm going to
race you down the hill, across the meadow and over three fences to
supper!" And before he could stay her she had flitted through the bushes
and was running on before him, slim and fleet.
He caught her in time to swing her over the first fence and capture an
elusive caress. The second barrier she vaulted and eluded him entirely,
but from the top of the last she bent and gave him his kiss as he lifted
her down. In another moment they had joined the circle around the
crackling fire, where they were greeted with the wildest hilarity and
overwhelmed with food and banter.