"The last thing I could desire, Sûr Imar, would be to renew your troubles." There was no humbug in these words of mine, as there was with the pious Æneas; for as the Lesghian Chief sat down and leaned his head upon his hands, he reminded me of my father's look, when his money came to nothing; moreover, I saw in his face a large resemblance to his daughter's in her sorrow over that pet bird. "It would be a terrible trial to you. But until I know more, I am all in the dark. Perhaps you will think it over, and whatever you do will be certain to be right." For the more he reminded me of my sweet one, the less could I bear to worry him.
"This is very good of you," he said most kindly, "and it doubles my duty towards you. I am ashamed of this weak and foolish feeling. You have a right to know all my history, and you shall, if you will come to-morrow. It is too late now for me to begin to-night, and I have a little duty to discharge. On a Saturday night we always thank the Lord for His care of us throughout the week. You belong probably to the Church of England. We of the Kheusur tribe have our very simple forms, handed down through ages, from the same source as yours perhaps. We have our little service at noon on Sundays. Would you like to be with us to-morrow?"
Nothing could have been more to my liking; and as it happened, there was no fear of disturbing our home arrangements, for my father was laid up with a slight attack of gout, and my mother in close attendance upon him. So in a few words it was settled that after attending their service, of whatever kind it might be, I should be allowed to hear the history of the Lesghian Chief, which was much more than the first promise I received. Knowing that now I should have full light thrown upon all the strange things which had so long engaged my attention and curiosity, and what was infinitely more than that, upon everything connected with Dariel, I rode home that night in a glow of excitement, tempered at intervals with nervous dread. For I might hear things that would place a bar forever, or a gulf, betwixt me and my love.
CHAPTER XX NOT FOR SALE
But when I had fed my good horse that evening, and bedded him comfortably as he deserved, returning with a hock of cold bacon to my den, and a jug of ale which I needed sorely, there I found my white deal table, just where I was going to lay the cloth, covered with a canopy and tissue-fringing of gold too bright for the candle-light.
"Who has brought this beehive here and stuck it on my table?" I asked with a tone of wonder and vexation; for I had quite enough to do with my own affairs just now.
"Did you ever see a beehive of this colour? Then I should like to know where they got the straw from?"
Grace had lifted her head, and was passing both hands through the curls of which she was so proud that she cared not what we called them, and her cheeks had a rich, unusual flush; and there was some new brightness in her eyes as well, bright enough always, now too bright, with unsettled weather in the depth beyond the blue. I saw that there was something up, but left her to begin it.