“There’s one o’ the ewes here as I don’t so very well like the looks on,” he said persuasively, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards a quarter which he felt to be perfectly safe.
Thereupon Mr Hounsell forgot to animadvert further on his underling’s oddities, and immediately became immersed in more practical matters.
By chance the shepherd was obliged to betake himself to the farm that day on some errand; and, as he was hurrying back to his charges, he encountered Ann-Car’line, leisurely driving a flock of ducks towards a wayside pond. She had slung her sun-bonnet on one arm, so that her pretty hair caught such pale sunshine as was available on that November afternoon; and in one hand she held a long elder switch with a few yellow leaves dandling at its extremity. She responded to Timothy’s greeting with perfect serenity, her placid blue eyes appearing more limpid even than usual as she returned his gaze. When he was a few paces away from her, picking his steps carefully among her waddling flock, he heard her trill out a song as suddenly and sweetly as a robin might have done.
“Well, that beats all!” commented the shepherd. “There she do look I in the face so innocent as a baby, and she do sing out like a—like a angel. I can’t make nothing of it—nay, I can’t indeed.”
His hut had now been put into position, and he occupied it that night, and might have slumbered peacefully enough, for his sheep were quiet; yet he could not rest for thinking of Ann-Car’line and her secret.
“She mid ha’ found that watch,” he said to himself, “or she midn’t ha’ knowed ’twas wrong to take it. There, to think of it a-layin’ out there so as anybody what liked mid just stretch out his hand and take it. What ’ud the poor maid do then? She’d ha’ no chance of giving it back, or anything.”
Impelled by these reflections, Timothy presently got up and made a second pilgrimage to Ann Car’line’s hiding-place. In a very few minutes he had withrawn the watch from its wrapper, dropped it into his own pocket, and replaced it by a round smooth stone. He chuckled to himself as he folded the handkerchief about this and laid it in the hole.
“’Twill be a rare treat to see the maid’s face,” he said.
For greater safety he continued to carry the watch about his person, carefully testing his pocket night and morning to make quite sure there was no suspicion of a hole.
The knowledge of this possession made him look quizzically at Ann-Car’line when next he came upon her; and strange to say he found himself obliged to pass her house on the following day. She was busily engaged in scrubbing the doorstep, and on hearing his footfall turned round; and perceiving that he smiled, though somewhat oddly, smiled back, gaily and innocently enough.