Audrey

But it was broad daylight, and Hugon, with his forest instincts,

preferred, when he wished to speak to the point, to speak in the dark. He

made no pause; only looked with his fierce black eyes at the quiet,

insouciant, fine gentleman standing with folded arms between him and the

boat; then passed on, going steadily up the creek toward the bend where

the water left the open smiling fields and took to the forest. He never

looked back, but went like a hunter with his prey before him. Presently

the shadows of the forest touched him, and Audrey and Haward were left

alone.

The latter laughed. "If his courage is of the quality of his lace--What,

cowering, child, and the tears in your eyes! You were braver when you were

not so tall, in those mountain days. Nay, no need to wet your shoe."

He lifted her in his arms, and set her feet upon firm grass. "How long

since I carried you across a stream and up a dark hillside!" he said. "And

yet to-day it seems but yesternight! Now, little maid, the Indian has run

away, and the path to the house is clear."

* * * * *

In his smoke-filled, untidy best room Darden sat at table, his drink

beside him, his pipe between his fingers, and open before him a book of

jests, propped by a tome of divinity. His wife coming in from the

kitchen, he burrowed in the litter upon the table until he found an open

letter, which he flung toward her. "The Commissary threatens again, damn

him!" he said between smoke puffs. "It seems that t'other night, when I

was in my cups at the tavern, Le Neve and the fellow who has Ware Creek

parish--I forget his name--must needs come riding by. I was dicing with

Paris. Hugon held the stakes. I dare say we kept not mum. And out of pure

brotherly love and charity, my good, kind gentlemen ride on to

Williamsburgh on a tale-bearing errand! Is that child never coming back,

Deborah?"

"She's coming now," answered his wife, with her eyes upon the letter. "I

was watching from the upper window. He rowed her up the creek himself."

The door opened, and Audrey entered the room. Darden turned heavily in his

chair, and took the long pipe from between his teeth. "Well?" he said.

"You gave him my letter?"

Audrey nodded. Her eyes were dreamy; the red of the buds in her hair had

somehow stolen to her cheeks; she could scarce keep her lips from smiling.

"He bade me tell you to come to supper with him on Monday," she said. "And

the Falcon that we saw come in last week brought furnishing for the great

house. Oh, Mistress Deborah, the most beautiful things! The rooms are all

to be made fine; and the negro women do not the work aright, and he wants

some one to oversee them. He says that he has learned that in England

Mistress Deborah was own woman to my Lady Squander, and so should know

about hangings and china and the placing of furniture. And he asks that

she come to Fair View morning after morning until the house is in order.

He wishes me to come, too. Mistress Deborah will much oblige him, he

says, and he will not forget her kindness."