CHAPTER XXXI.
THE MAJOR AND COUSIN HELEN'S BOYS.
The major was in no haste to leave, but he spent most of his time with Mark, and was in nobody's way. Mark was very happy with the major. The nature of the man was so childlike that, although he knew little of the deep things in which Mark was at home, his presence was never an interruption to the child's thoughts; and when the boy made a remark in the upward direction, he would look so grave, and hold such a peace that the child never missed the lacking words of response. Who knows what the man may not have gained even from silent communication with the child!
One day he was telling the boy how he had been out alone on a desolate hill all night; how he heard the beasts roaring round him, and not one of them came near him. "Did you see him?" asked Mark.
"See who, sonny?" returned the major.
"The one between you and them," answered Mark in a subdued tone; and from the tone the major understood.
"No," he answered; and taking into his the spirit of the child, went on. "I don't think any one sees him now-a-days."
"Isn't it a pity?" said Mark. Then after a thoughtful pause, he resumed: "Well, not see him just with your eyes, you know! But old Jonathan at the cottage—he has got no eyes—at least none to speak of, for they're no good to see with—he always speaks of seeing the people he has been talking with—and in a way he does see them, don't you think? But I fancy sometimes I must have seen him with my very eyes when I was young: and that's why I keep always expecting to see him again—some day, you know—some day. Don't you think I shall, Majie?"
"I hope so, indeed, Mark! It would be a bad job if we were never to see him!" he added, suddenly struck with a feeling he had never had before.