"Child, how absurd!"
"Yes'm, I s'pose it is. But there was them same big eyebrows standin' out fur from this white face as his'n does from his red one. There was the same sort of bitter look in the eyes, only these ones was afire. Ain't that queer?"
"Exceedingly queer. So queer that you must banish the notion at once from your mind. I am convinced that it was some poor, homeless wanderer estrayed into this quiet, and, I fear, inhospitable village, where there is no provision for such as he. I'm sure I wish he were safely housed in one of our own outbuildings rather than roaming the fields on such a night. Even an old blanket thrown into one of the box-stalls would have been comparative comfort."
"Y—es'm," assented Alfaretta, with small enthusiasm. But what she did like to hear was Madam's talk of the old times when the now empty stable was full of spirited horses, when guests filled the silent rooms, when servants were many and the larder abundant, and life and laughter ruled where now were only memories. It always sounded like make-believe; and, humble poor-house child though she was, Alfy delighted in make-believe.
A hint was commonly sufficient to set the house-mistress reminiscent, and once started upon such retrospections she was as contented to continue as her little maid to listen; and now there followed for the pair an hour of real enjoyment.
Once really past the threshold Montgomery's reluctance vanished. If he had anything disagreeable to do he liked to get it over with at once. The walk to The Maples in that storm was certainly disagreeable, as would, doubtless, be his reception there. He wouldn't think about that part of the affair till it faced him, and he wouldn't let any grass grow under his feet for loitering upon his road. Then a thought of Katharine, alone and in terror, roused all his real manliness, so that he cared no further for anything save to set her free. He would now promptly have knocked any other boy down for calling him the hard names he called himself all the way from the Mansion to Aunt Eunice's, and he disdained to think of tramps, thunder-claps, or broken tree-limbs, even though he stumbled over some of these along the path. Despite the obstructing wind, he had never run so swiftly, and the resounding whack he gave the Maitland knocker startled all within the house.
Poor Aunt Eunice required but little now to set her nerves a-quiver, and was anxiously pacing the sitting-room floor, wondering how and where to begin that search for little Katharine, which must be deferred no longer. But after the first shock of the summons she ran to answer it, feeling sure that here was news at last; and there almost fell into the hall a drenched, breathless lad, who could only stammer, feebly:
"H-h-hay—mow!"
Then he dropped upon the floor to catch his breath.
Miss Maitland stared at him, wondering if here was another storm-crazed victim. Then she remembered that "H-h-h-hay—mow!" was the one and only word the boy had uttered during that scene of the brass bound box. Now again just "H-h-hay-mow!" She passed her hand wearily across her eyes trying to understand.