"I am thinking how to find out Zara's husband, and hang him."
"Hang him?"
"Yes," said Lee, savagely. "She was killed by her husband."
[CHAPTER XVI]
THE MAN FROM KOIAU
The farmhouse of Mr. Carwell was a substantial brick building, surrounded by barns and yards, and flanked by five or six hayricks, the whole being girdled by elm-trees. Their foliage now was of a mixed yellow and red as the year drew to winter. On all sides stretched the stubble fields, tawny in hue, save those which, having already been ploughed, presented patches of dark red earth. Sleek cows wandered in some meadows, horses grazed in others, pigs and fowl shared the farmyard, rooting and scratching amid the straw, pigeons whirled aloft in the cold blue of the sky, or cooed round the eaves of the thatched stable. The homestead wore an air of comfort and peace, in keeping with the quiet religious spirit of its owner. In recognition of the plenty which filled its walls, Carwell had written over the door the Hebrew word, "Bethdagon," which signifies the "House of corn."
In this Goshen Rachel ruled supreme. Her mother had passed away these many years, and she held the keys of the household. Demure, in a grey gown and close cap, lightfooted and ever watchful, she moved like a Puritan fairy in the home. The girl was a born housekeeper, and in her little kingdom affairs were conducted with a wonderful and rare combination of economy and cheerfulness. Carwell knew that some day she would marry--at present circumstances pointed to Herbert Mayne--and he often wondered how he would be able to manage without his clever, bright-eyed Rachel. Her departure would be a loss not easy to replace. Household blessings like this maiden do not grow on every bush.
But Rachel was not bright-eyed on this particular day. She was sorely afraid lest her cousin Jack should be committed for trial on a charge of murder. She was very fond of Jack, and although she disapproved of his harum-scarum sailorly ways, she could not believe him guilty of so terrible a crime. As she attended to her household duties, her heart was heavy within her, and several times she went to the door in the hope of seeing her father returning with news. But for Carwell's express wish, she would have gone to the court herself.
At last, shortly before the mid-day meal, she caught sight of the old-fashioned trap turning in by the distant gate. She saw that it contained three people, and ran to meet it, in the hope that Jack having been acquitted, her father was bringing him home. As the vehicle came nearer, Rachel made out one of the trio to be a woman. She wondered who this third person could be. She was not left long in doubt.
"Here, Rachel, lass," called out the farmer, jovially, "your cousin is a free man again; and here is a lady to see you."