He shook his head. "Not tonight, thanks. You're tired, and I've a long ride before me. Next time I come we'll have tea," he promised as he turned to shake hands with Landon.
"Your guardians are with you I suppose?" said Erie, as he turned to go.
He laughed, "Sphinx and Dexter, you mean? Yes, they are out in the stable with my horse. By the way, they didn't see you last time we were here, and they seemed to feel pretty badly about it. Would you mind stepping outside and speaking a word to them?" he asked. "They are very fond of you, you know."
She shivered. "And I'm very fond of them, only," she added as she followed him to the door, "I never know whether they want to eat me up or caress me."
"You won't forget to come back again soon, Hinter?" called the sick man. "It does me a sight of good to see you and get the news from the Settlement."
"I'll return soon," Hinter promised. "Don't worry about anything. A speedy recovery—and good night."
A full moon was veiling lake and bay in sheen of silvery whiteness as Hinter and Erie went out into the August night. Eastward the long pine covered Point swept a dark line against the grey, shadowy rush-lands. Somewhere among the hidden ponds mallards and grey ducks were quacking contentedly as they fed. A swamp coon raised his almost human cry as he crept the sandy shores in search of the frogs whose tanging notes boomed from the boglands.
Man and girl paused for a little time on the strip of white sand to drink in the beauty of the night and the sounds of its wild life. Then Hinter stepped to the stable and opened the door. "Come boys," he commanded and the two great dogs came bounding out to leap upon him with whines of welcome, then on to where the girl stood, waiting, half eagerly, half frightened.
"Gently now," Hinter cautioned, and they threw themselves at her feet, massive heads on outstretched paws, deep-set eyes raised to her face. She bent and placed a hand on the head of each.
"Surely," she said, "they are not as ferocious as they are said to be?"