“Why, er--only Mr. Herrick.”
“Not William Herrick, the undertaker!” There was apparently only pleased surprise in the old woman’s voice.
“Yes,” nodded Ella feverishly, “he had business out this way, and--and got snowed up,” she explained with some haste.
“Ye don’t say,” murmured the old woman. “Well, ask him in; I’d like ter see him.”
“Aunt Abby!”--Ella’s teeth fairly chattered with dismay.
“Yes, I’d like ter see him,” repeated the old woman with cordial interest. “Call him in.”
And Ella could do nothing but obey.
Herrick, however, did not stay long in the sick-room. The situation was uncommon for him, and not without its difficulties. As soon as possible he fled to the kitchen, telling Jim that it gave him “the creeps” to have her ask him where he’d started for, and if business was good.
All that day it snowed and all that night; nor did the dawn of Friday bring clear skies. For hours the wind had swept the snow from roofs and hilltops, piling it into great drifts that grew moment by moment deeper and more impassable.
In the farmhouse Herrick was still a prisoner.