The Broad Highway

"One could play upon the one and curl one's hair with the other,

and there is a deal of pleasure to be had from both," said she.

"Then also," I pursued, "this place, as I told you, is said to be

haunted--not," I went on, seeing that she was silent, "not that

you believe in such things, of course? But the cottage is very

rough, and ill and clumsily furnished--though, to be sure, it

might be made comfortable enough, and--"

"Well?" she inquired, as I paused.

"Then--" said I, and was silent for a long time, watching the

play of the moonbeams on the rippling water.

"Well?" said she again at last.

"Then," said I, "if you are friendless, God forbid that I should

refuse you the shelter of even such a place as this--so--if you

are homeless, and without money--stay here--if you will--so long

as it pleases you."

I kept my eyes directed to the running water at my feet as I

waited her answer, and it seemed a very long time before she spoke.

"Are you fond of stewed rabbit?"

"Rabbit!" said I, staring. "With onions!"

"Onions?"

"Oh, I can cook a little, and supper is waiting."

"Supper?"

"So if you are hungry--"

"I am ravenous!"

"Then why not come home and eat it?"

"Home?"

"Instead of echoing my words and staring the poor moon out of

countenance? Come," and, with the word, she turned and led the

way to the cottage. And behold, the candles were lighted, the

table was spread with a snowy cloth, and a pot simmered upon the

hob: a pot that gave forth an odor delectable, and over which

Charmian bent forthwith, and into which she gazed with an anxious

brow and thrust an inquiring fork.

"I think it's all right!"

"I'm sure of it," said I, inhaling the appetizing aroma--"but,

pray, where did you get it?"

"A man sold it to me--he had a lot of them."

"Hum!" said I, "probably poached."

"I bought this for sixpence--out of the old shoe."

"Sixpence?--then they certainly were poached. These are the

Cambourne Woods, and everything upon them fish, flesh, or fowl,

living or dead--belongs to the Lady Sophia Sefton of Cambourne."

"Then--perhaps we had better not eat it," said she, glancing at

me over her shoulder--but, meeting my eye, she laughed. And so

we presently sat down to supper and, poached though it may have

been, that rabbit made a truly noble end, notwithstanding.