He was about to say more, but checked himself, and ended his speech more cautiously: "If she has kinsfolk here, none of us ever heard of them."
"But where did she come from?" questioned the man, who was greatly interested in the singular girl. "Such black hair and eyes should be of a strange land. There is nothing English about her but her speech. Look at her face; the color burns through it like wine."
"Now that she looks fierce," said another, "one sees how handsome a fiery woman can be. Some one has stirred up her temper. He may find himself the worse for it. The fellows are shy of angering her, take my word on that. She has a quick hand, and a sharp tongue; but her bright, comely face brings customers to the house. A tidy girl is the new one. Only keep the right side of her, that's all."
Just then the barmaid came back into the room. There was something in her appearance that might have reminded one of Ruth Jessup, could the soul of a wild animal have harbored in the form of that beautiful girl. The same raven hair, and large eyes; the same rich complexion, joined to features coarser, sensuous, and capable of expressing many passions that Ruth could not have imagined. As she stood, with a sort of easy grace, the purely physical resemblance was remarkable; but when she moved or spoke, it was gone. Then the coarse nature came out, and overwhelmed the imagination.
"Where did she come from?" asked Judith's new admirer.
"Better ask her yourself," answered Storms, absolutely jealous that any one should admire the beauty he had begun to loathe.
"I will," said the man, and, leaving the table, he approached Judith with a jaunty exhibition of gallantry, which she received with a cold stare, and, turning from him, walked back into the bar.
Storms broke into a laugh, and followed the girl into her retreat. Even in that brief interval he had arranged his plan of action, and carried it out adroitly. The girl knew that he was coming, and stood there, like a leopard in its den, ready to fight or be persuaded, as her heart swayed to love or resentment.
"This is madness; it is cruel to your old father—hard on me. Twice have I been to the house, and found it empty."
The fire went out of Judith's face. Bewildered, baffled and ready to cry, she turned away with a gesture that Storms took for unbelief of what was indeed a glib falsehood.