The effect of it was to loose her tongue to its utmost. One may guess the listener heard himself portrayed in colors he failed to recognize and that he realized he had made a mistake in the selection of a confidante. However, his purpose had been to do away with all doubt concerning himself, and to do this with as little distress to his hostess as possible. For that reason he had believed a woman would be his best aid, but it proved that almost any ranchman on the place would have been safer than she.
“Well, I ought to have known that a female who talks so much must say something amiss, and I can’t blame her for her indignation. In her stead I might have behaved worse; and the thing now is to get over this little weakness and go away about the miserable business, at once,” he reflected. Then he watched her hurry out of his room and surmised whither she would turn her steps. Therefore, he was not surprised when, somewhat later, he also left the cottage to find himself confronted by great Samson, quietly, but significantly, awaiting the stranger’s appearance. For the great fellow had naturally been appointed by his mates to “settle that critter’s hash and settle it sudden.”
“Good-morning, Samson.”
Silence.
“It seems so wonderful to me to wake and find this changeless sunshine, day after day, as if no such things as storms could ever exist,” said the lawyer, pleasantly.
Samson’s grimness relaxed to a slight degree. “Some kind of storms blow in fair weather. Likely you’ll meet up with one sooner’n you expect. Step this way, will you?”
The sailor’s expression was so formidable that, for a moment, all the wild tales the lawyer had ever read of western desperadoes returned to test his already weakened nerves. But he was no coward, and knew that though in a most uncomfortable position, it was by no means a guilty one.
“Certainly.”
Samson led the way, if walking closely beside the guest, as a constable walks beside his prisoner, may be termed leading. Nor once did he turn his angry gaze from the gentleman’s face, and the riding-crop in his hand swung to and fro, as if longing to test itself against some enemy’s body. The walk ended in the ranchmen’s messroom, where Wun Lung, released from the cottage kitchen, had already been impressed into service, and was deftly preparing breakfast. Aunt Sally had disappeared, but Jessica was there, perched on a corner of the dresser, by which stood “Forty-niner,” with his arm about her. All the other workmen whom Mr. Hale had seen were also present and an air of silent fury pervaded the whole assemblage.
The stranger’s glance passed swiftly from one face to another and saw no kindness on any. Even the little captain’s eyes were bent downward and her lovely face wore a sorrow it made his own heart ache to see.