Hallibut chuckled and laid his hand on the old lady’s shoulder.
“You mean the old Indian, Nancy? Bless your heart, woman, he’s harmless as a baby most likely. Bet a dollar he’s been at my decanters. I’ll go in and see him. Just lay the table for two of us. Like as not, being an Indian, he can eat whether he’s hungry or no.”
“But, sir,” protested the old woman, “you’ll not ’ave ’im sit with you, sir?”
“My dear Nancy, after what I’ve been through I’d welcome the company of a snake, providing it was a real snake and was clean. You’ll please see that two plates are laid.”
The big man stalked forward and opened the door into the wide sitting-room. Before the log fire was bent a slight figure clad in buckskin. The Colonel saw an old withered man, his thin face seamed with wrinkles, his black eyes peering from deep hollows that age had sunk there. His hair was crow-black and long, falling about his narrow shoulders. He arose with a lithe motion as the Colonel entered.
“How?” he said in good English.
“How?” returned the master of the house, holding out his hand.
The old Indian looked at it, but made no motion toward taking it. He raised his arm and pointed about the room.
“Good,” he said; “much good.”
“Sit down,” invited the Colonel. “Now tell me what brings you here. You live on ‘Point Aux,’ I understand. It’s a long way to the Point.”