Henry thought this nothing strange. He was an odd sort of fellow was Nat Bradley, and did queer things sometimes.
I was not surprised at his unexplained departure. After that interview with the mistress of the mansion, he would not be likely soon to show himself there again.
There was little said about it, and I could see that Miss Woodley had no suspicion of my having overheard what had passed between her and her rejected suitor.
For my part I intended to keep her secret. I was too contented at what I had heard to spoil my pleasure by divulging it, and unless Bradley himself should choose to demand explanations from me, I intended to leave the matter as it stood. Of course I could not help speculating upon what course he would take as regarded myself. Would he submit tamely to the treatment I had given him? Noted bully as he was, I might have expected a challenge, or what was more likely in that land of pseudo-chivalry, an "affair," that is, a rough fight with guns, knives, and pistols. Why it had not come off upon the spot, I could understand, or at all events I had conjectured. His rifle was empty, its last load having been discharged at my own person. He appeared to be unprovided with pistols—these weapons, perhaps, not being deemed appropriate for making a proposal of marriage. Unarmed, and taken by surprise by my sudden appearance, he had permitted me to depart without an encounter.
I supposed, however, it would come off sooner or later, and I waited for a communication.
But the next day passed, and there was none; and the next after, till a whole week had transpired without any word from Mr. Nat Bradley.
I made up my mind I should hear no more of him, and concluded that in this case the bully was also a coward.
CHAPTER XIV.
A SURLY SKIPPER.