By this time the old gentleman was astride his horse. He took off his hat, bowed with the air of a cavalier, and, bidding us good-night, galloped off down the road. Then I told Alf why I had held him back, that I had almost insulted the old man by offering to assist him in mounting his horse; and Alf stood there actually trembling at the narrowness of his escape. I know that we should have been burned up had he been half so badly frightened while we were in the school-house.
The nights were shortened by the season's approach to the first of May. It seemed a long time since the twilight had glimmered on the leaves, and it was past midnight when we reached home. Old Lim had put up his horse and was standing at the draw-bars, waiting for us.
"For a smart man," said he, "I reckon the General's got about as little sense as any human now alive. By jings, he's a crank; that's what's the matter with him; and the first thing he knows people will be keepin' out of his way."
A light flashed from the passage and we saw Guinea and her mother standing on the log step, gazing toward us.
"It's all right!" the old man cried. "Go on to bed, and don't be standing around this time of night."
Alf and I, leaving the old man at the bars, went to the house. "Oh, I'm so glad you've all got back," said Mrs. Jucklin, striving to be calm, but whimpering. "Are you sure that you are all safe and sound?"
Guinea began to laugh. "Of course, they are, mother, don't you see?"
"But what's your father still standin' out yonder for? I jest know he's crippled. Limuel, are you hurt?" she cried.
"Yes, I am hurt, and by a man that prefers to be a crank. Said that he wouldn't care anything about 'em even if it was daylight."
"Oh, but you are not shot, are you?" his wife exclaimed, starting toward him.