“I’ll be mum as an oyster,” said Miranda. “You jest tell me anything you please. You needn’t be afraid Hannah Heath’ll know a grain about it. She’n’ I are two people. I know when to shut up.”
“Well, Miranda, I’m in great perplexity and anxiety. I’ve just had a note from a messenger my husband has sent asking me to come out to that Green Tavern you were talking about. He was sent to me with some message and has had an accident so he couldn’t come. It kind of frightened me to think what might be the matter. I’m glad you are going this way because it keeps me from thinking about it. Are we nearly there? I never went out this road so far before.”
“It ain’t fur,” said Miranda as if that were a minor matter. “I’ll go right along in with you, then you needn’t feel lonely. I guess likely it’s business. Don’t you worry.” The tone was reassuring, but Marcia’s face looked troubled.
“No, I guess that won’t do, Miranda, for the note says it is a private matter and I must come alone. You know Mr. Spafford has matters to write about that are very important, railroads, and such things, and sometimes he doesn’t care to have any one get hold of his ideas before they appear in the paper. His enemies might use them to stop the plans of the great improvements he is writing about.”
“Let me see that note!” demanded Miranda. “Got it with you?” Marcia hesitated. Perhaps she ought not to show it, and yet there was nothing in the note but what she had already told the girl, and she felt sure she would not breathe a word to a living soul after her promise. She handed Miranda the letter, and they stopped a moment while she slowly spelled it out. Miranda was no scholar. Marcia watched her face eagerly, as if to gather a ray of hope from it, but she was puzzled by Miranda’s look. A kind of satisfaction had overspread her homely countenance.
“Should you think from that that David was hurt—or ill—or—or—killed—or anything?” She asked the question as if Miranda were a wizard, and hung anxiously upon her answer.
“Naw, I don’t reckon so!” said Miranda. “Don’t you worry. David’s all right somehow. I’ll take care o’ you. You go ’long up and see what’s the business, an’ I’ll wait here out o’ sight o’ the tavern. Likely’s not he might take a notion not to tell you ef he see me come along with you. You jest go ahead, and I’ll be on hand when you get through. If you need me fer anything you jest holler out ‘Randy!’ good and loud an’ I’ll hear you. Guess I’ll set on this log. The tavern’s jest round that bend in the road. Naw, you needn’t thank me. This is a real pretty mornin’ to set an’ rest. Good-bye.”
Marcia hurried on, glancing back happily at her protector in a calico sunbonnet seated stolidly on a log with her tin pail beside her.
Poor stupid Miranda! Of course she could not understand what a comfort it was to have confided her trouble. Marcia went up to the tavern with almost a smile on her face, though her heart began to beat wildly as a slatternly girl led her into a big room at the right of the hall.
As Marcia disappeared behind the bend in the road, Miranda stealthily stole along the edge of the woods, till she stood hidden behind a clump of alders where she could peer out and watch Marcia until she reached the tavern and passed safely by the row of lounging, smoking men, and on into the doorway. Then Miranda waited just an instant to look in all directions, and sped across the road, mounting the fence and on through two meadows, and the barnyard to the kitchen door of the tavern.