During supper, Fannie several times caught his gaze resting fixedly upon her face, and felt a strange, ill-defined uneasiness that she could not entirely banish. And yet this close scrutiny might well be pardoned, for the maiden was very pleasing to look upon, and the drover seemed just in the prime of life, when one’s fancy is most quickly caught by a fresh, lovely face.
Fannie Hawksley was more than ordinarily beautiful—indeed the family were noted for their good-looks, and she was the bright star of all. Under the medium hight, small and light as a fairy, her form was well developed and true-proportioned. Rich brown hair, a clear, fresh complexion, and melting hazel eyes—little wonder that Mark Haley gazed admiringly at her.
After supper was dispatched, the men stepped outside, and, with lighted pipes, continued their bartering. Haley’s eyes often wandered toward the house, seemingly admiring its structure, a two-story building being something of a novelty at that time, so far on the frontier.
That evening Ned Campbell called, as usual since Fred’s disappearance, to report progress. It was the same story of baffled search. Nothing had been learned regarding the missing man.
Mark Haley seemed deeply interested in the story, but could offer no suggestion that had not already been tried. Hawksley sunk into a troubled reverie, and then abruptly retired, first showing Haley his room.
An hour later Ned Campbell took his departure, sad and heart-sick. For several months he had been Fannie’s accepted suitor, but never until this night had she set the time for their wedding.
“Ned,” she had said, looking up into his bold, handsome face, as his arms tightly encircled her lithe, rounded form, “I can not marry until Fred returns home, or—or is found. If alive, bring him here; if dead, bring me proof, and I will be yours. In this horrible uncertainty, I can think of nothing else. It is killing mother and father. Bring him back to us, and I am yours.”
“If man can do it, Fannie, I will. But there seems little hope. Think what we have done—how we have searched. But, God helping me, I will find him. If only for your sake, I will not rest until I do. Good-by, darling. I will not come any more until I can bring you tidings, either good or bad. It only makes the work harder. Seeing your grief unnerves me. Good-by; pray for my success, and hope for the best, darling.”
“God bless you, Ned,” she answered, her bright eyes dimmed with tears. “You deserve a better girl than I am, but I will make you happy if I can.”
Campbell dared not reply in words, but their lips met in a long, clinging kiss of pure and holy love, then he tore himself away, and mounting his horse, galloped furiously away toward his own home.