Hastily returning to the tree, and stopping in front of the dark entrance, he continued—
“Somebidy inside thar? Who air it? Lena, gurl, is’t you?”
Silence broken only by the baying of the hound.
“Hush up, you brute!” cried his master, driving off the dog with a kick. “Hear me thar, you inside! ’Tain’t no good playin’ possum. Ef it’s you, Lena gurl, I command ye to come out.”
Thus summoned, the girl saw it would be no use disobeying. It could serve no purpose, and would only end in her father stepping inside the cavity and dragging her angrily forth.
“I’ll go,” she whispered to her companion. “But stay you, Pierre, and don’t stir! He’ll think I’m alone.”
Pierre had no chance to remonstrate, for on speaking the words, she stepped hastily out, and stood face to face with her father.
“So, so! I’ve foun’ you at last, hev I? An’ that’s the hole in which ye war hidin’, is it? Nice place that for a young lady, as ye think yurself, at this time o’ night! An’ a nice party yer been hevin’ clost to ye! Come, gurl! No denial o’ what you’ve been doin’; but give an explanation o’ yurself! How kim ye to be hyar?”
“O, father! I was walking about. It was such a beautiful night, and I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come out into the field and have a stroll down here to the old tree. I was standing under it when I saw them coming up—Alf Brandon and the others—”
“Wal, go on!”