"----And that he is certain you and he would not agree. I would give a finger off each hand if it could have been, for a warmer-hearted and nobler man does not exist than Chaytor; and as for you, Corrie, I would wish nothing better. But I am bound to him by the strongest ties of gratitude."
"Say no more, Master Basil, say no more. Mayhap we shall meet by-and-by, and we shall be no worse friends because this has fallen through. We have a lot to say to each other. I'm off the day after to-morrow; I should have been off before if it had not been for you and the little lady."
"She has been here?" cried Basil.
"She has been here four times since you left--the last time yesterday--not to see me, but you. She manages the thing herself, poor little lady, and comes alone, after giving the slip to those about her. Her first grief is over, though she will never forget the good father she has lost--never. It isn't in her nature to forget--bear that in mind, Master Basil. She clings to the friends that are left her. Friends, did I say? Why, she has only one--you, Master Basil; I don't count. Besides, if I did it would matter little to her, for there's nothing more unlikely than that, after two days have gone by, I shall ever look upon her sweet face again. She goes one way, I go another.
"She goes one way?" repeated Basil; "will she not remain on the plantation?"
"She will not. You see it isn't for her to choose; she must do as she is directed. But we are mixing up things, and it will help them right well if I tell you what I've got to tell straight on, commencing with A, ending with Z. Let us clear the ground so that the axe may swing without being caught in loose branches. I'll hear what you've got to say. My mare is lost, I know."
"How do you know?"
"You would have brought it back with you if it hadn't been. Now then, lad, straight out, no beating about the bush. It's not in your line. I don't for a moment mistrust you. There's truth in your face always, Master Basil, and I wish with all my heart the little lady had you by her side to guide her instead of the skunk that's stepped into her dead father's shoes. You're a square man, and my mare is lost through no fault of yours, my lad."
Encouraged by these generous words, Basil told his story straight, and Old Corrie listened with a pleasant face.
"The mare's gone," said Old Corrie when Basil had done, "and bad luck go with her. I know the brands on her: mayhap I shall come across her one of these fine days. Describe the rascals to me."