Buck! The ominous figure I had seen watching me in the deep twilight the day before. Buck! Of course, Buck! He had seen me part from Lessie; he had come to her immediately afterward, and had doubtless told her some things which were not good for her peace of mind. Is man really a savage, at rock bottom? In the moment following Lessie's intense announcement of the cause of her distress, what were my feelings? Simply these. There came to my mind the realization that I, too, was a man of physical might; that I, too, had immense muscles of thigh, and chest, and arm; that the trouble which had sent me here was surely checked as I felt my vigor growing day by day, and that if somebody wanted to fight I would give him his fill, rather than be hectored into forsaking Lessie's company—for I felt assured already that this was the burden of Buck Steele's demands.
Something of all this must have showed in my face as I stepped deliberately to Lessie's side and took one of her hands, for I saw traces of terror in the gray eyes.
"Yo'—yo' mustn't git together!" she exclaimed, tempestuously, her fingers closing around mine in a grip which caused me to wonder. "Oh! Yo' mustn't!—Yo' mustn't! Yo' don't know Buck; he c'n ben' a horse-shoe!"
"Lessie," I said, returning her grasp and looking at her determinedly; "I'm not afraid of any man that lives and moves. I don't believe in violence, but there are times when it becomes necessary. And when the necessity arises in my life, I'm going to face it. You have said that you wanted me to help you, and if you still feel this way, nothing and no one is going to prevent me from carrying out my part of the agreement. I've a notion I know pretty much what took place last night, but you must tell me now, as we walk along. We must talk it over—come."
I kept her hand until I had faced her about and we had gone a short distance. Then I let it go.
"Yo' see," began Lessie, in a perplexed little voice, and without waiting for further urging, "Buck's ben comin' to see me fur mos' a year, off 'n' on. He's the only young feller Granny'll 'low on the place. He's ben pow'ful good to me, 'n'—'n' well, he's ast me to marry 'im. But I don't love Buck. I can't he'p lak'n' 'im, 'cause he's so good 'n' kin' 'n' 'd do anythin' on earth I'd ask 'im to. He don't pester me 'bout comin', neither, 'n' w'en I don't feel lak seein' 'im he'll go on 'way, meek lak 'n' not complainin'. 'N' after w'ile here he'll be back ag'in, tryin' to tell me thin's I don't wan' to lis'n' to. I jes' can't hurt 'is feelin's. Somehow 'r 'nother he heerd that you'd come out here 'n' had seen me by the dogwood tree that day—I s'pec' Granny tol' 'im 'bout it, 'cause I didn't tell nobody but the home folks. 'N' so las' night he come—he came out home to 'quire 'bout it, 'n' he saw you tell me good-by at the bridge. 'N' after you'd gone he came on—'n' I'd never seen 'im look lak he looked then. His eyes wuz black 'n' had fire in 'em 'n' his face wuz lak a piece o' gray rock 'n' his voice wuz diff'unt 'n' ever' now 'n' then he shuk all over."
Her words had gradually increased in velocity until, when she stopped, she was speaking so rapidly I could hardly understand what she said.
"Yes," I replied, but nothing more until we had come to the foot of the knob. Here, as we turned westward toward the creek leading to Lizard Point, I spoke again.
"He talked to you, Dryad, of course. Now you must tell me everything, and keep nothing back—nothing. Even though he said very ugly things—things which may have frightened you, you must tell me them, too."
She stooped to pluck a cluster of little wild flowers growing on a single stem, giving a low exclamation of pleasure as she did so. Then, as she twined the flowers in her hair over the ear away from me, she answered.