There was an emphasis on the words that particularly pleased me.
A pause followed, and with a heart strangely palpitating I listened for the rejoinder.
It came in an accent half-agonized, half-angry.
"You won't, Corneel? you won't! Be it so. Then by heaven! you'll never be the wife of another man—or if you are, it will only be to become his widow. I swear by the Eternal, that if it cost me my life, I'll kill the man that marries you. Yes, the very day he makes you his bride. So now you may choose for yourself: either be my wife or some fool's widow. If I thought it was this fledgeless puppy that's staying with you, I wouldn't let it go that far. No, by—! I'd put an end to him before that sun should set. I'd—"
"Nat Bradley!" broke in the voice of the indignant girl. "Do you think I will listen to such a speech as you are addressing to me? You forget yourself, sir; or you forget me. Let me hear no more of it, or my brother shall be told of the liberty you are pleased to take in his absence."
To this speech I could hear no rejoinder, but instead, a rustling of female dress, and the sound of light footsteps passing away. I could tell that Miss Woodley had put an end to the interview by retiring toward the house.
For myself I felt contented enough to have gone back to the woods, and enjoyed pigeon-shooting for the rest of the day. But the word "puppy" rung in my ears, and alongside them was my cheeks, still tingling with that queer sensation I had experienced from the passage of the bullet.
I could not restrain myself from stepping round the tree that had hitherto concealed the speakers from my sight, and confronting the only one that remained upon the ground, Mr. Nat Bradley.
Had I been my own ghost—which he supposed I was—he could not have shown more surprise. I think now, as I thought then, that he was under the belief that he had killed me—and this may account for his consternation at seeing me. At all events the braggadocio to which he had been giving vent, seemed suddenly scared out of him; and he received me in a manner almost submissive.
"Mr. Bradley," I said, "will you have the goodness to let me look at your gun?"