“I hope you are not going to beat the driver,” I said quickly.
“Good-bye,” said he, still holding out his hand.
It naturally annoyed me to have my remarks ignored in that way. I looked at him coldly.
“You will please not hurt the man on my account,” I said stiffly.
“Then I must hurt him on my own,” he calmly replied. “These men have to be taught their duty to white ladies.”
It vexed me curiously to think that he should so resent having been left alone with me all night that he must needs punish the driver for it.
“I hate brutality,” I said. “The thought of one man hitting another makes me feel sick. I think you are very vindictive.”
“I am sorry,” said he, but there was not the faintest trace of sorrow anywhere about him; in fact, he was smiling me hardily in the eyes and I saw that he had every intention of beating the man in spite of my wishes. I turned away from him to hide the vexation that surged through me, and began to arrange my rugs in the cart, but when I had finished he was still there, and with something further to remark.
“Miss Saurin, I hope you will pardon me for saying that it would be unwise of you to let any one know that your last night’s vigil included my society.”
That was really too much! I stared at him haughtily, utterly taken aback by such a remark and its inference. But he met my eyes quite unabashed. It occurred to me at the moment that he had probably never been abashed in his life, and the idea did not please me.