It was quite dark in among the trees, but she fancied there was a smile in her companion’s eyes.
“Oh,” he answered simply, “you couldn’t be anything else!”
She accepted this as a compliment, though she knew that it had not been his intention to flatter her. His general attitude since she had met him scarcely suggested such, a lack of good taste. She was becoming mildly interested in the stranger, but she possessed several essentially English characteristics, and it did not appear advisable to encourage him too much. She said nothing further, and it was he who spoke first.
“I wonder,” he said, “if you knew a young lad who went out to Canada a few years ago. His name was Pattinson—Henry Pattinson.”
“No,” the girl answered quickly. “I certainly did not. But the name is not an uncommon one. There are a good many Pattinsons in the North.”
Wyllard was not surprised by this answer. He had reasons for believing that the name under which the lad he had befriended had enrolled himself was not the correct one. It would, of course, have been easy to describe the boy, but Wyllard was shrewd, and noticing that there was now a restraint in the girl’s manner he could not speak prematurely. He was aware that most of the English are characterized by a certain reserve, and apt to retire into their shells if pressed too hard. He did not, however, mean to let this girl elude him altogether.
“It really doesn’t matter,” he responded. “I shall no doubt get upon his trail in due time.”
They reached the highroad a minute or two later, and the girl turned to him.
“Thank you again,” she said. “If you go straight on you will come to the village in about a quarter of an hour.”
She turned away and left him standing with his soft hat in his hand. He stood quite still for almost a minute after she had gone. When he reached the inn its old-world simplicity delighted him. It was built with thick walls of slate, and roofed with ponderous flags. In Canada, where the frost was Arctic, they used thin cedar shingles. The room in which his meal was spread was paneled with oak that had turned black with age. Great rough-hewn beams of four times the size that anybody would have used for the purpose in the West supported the low ceiling. There was a fire in the wide hearth and the ruddy gleam of burnished copper utensils pierced the shadows. The room was large, but there was only a single candle upon the table. He liked the gloomy interior, and he felt that a garish light would somehow be out of harmony.