“Don’t know.” Hervey turned; his pistol was pointing towards his sister.
“Well, what about the ‘thresher’? You and Andy were going to get it–––Look out!”
Her exclamation came with a shriek. The great husky had dashed from her side and made a charge towards its master. Its lips were drawn up, and its 189 fearful, bared fangs gleamed in the morning light. Hervey lowered his weapon with a laugh. The dog paused irresolute, then, with a wicked growl, it turned back and sought again the girl’s caressing hand.
“One of these days I’ll give you something to snarl at, you d–––d cur,” Hervey said, between his clenched teeth. Then he turned at the sound of his mother’s voice. The old lady was standing in the kitchen doorway.
“What’s all the fuss about?” she asked, turning her round eyes from one to the other. “Quarrelling again, I’ll be bound. Breakfast’s ready, so just come in, both of you, or the ‘slap-jacks’ ’ll all be spoiled.”
Prudence glanced covertly in the dog’s direction as she obeyed the summons. She was fearful that the brute contemplated a further attack upon its master. In spite of the constant bickerings which took place between these two, the girl had no desire that her brother should be hurt.
Hervey spoke not a word during the morning meal, except to demand the food he required, and his surliness had a damping effect on those about him, and it was with a sigh of relief that his mother at last rose from the table and began to gather the plates preparatory to clearing away. Once, as Hervey moved slowly towards the door to return to his guns, she looked as though she were going to speak. But the words died on her lips, and she ambled off to the wash-house without speaking.
The atmosphere cleared when Hervey mounted his horse and rode off. His mother looked after him, sighed and shrugged; then she went on with 190 her work with a touch of her old cheerful manner about her. No complaint ever passed her lips, but, to those who knew the kindly old face, the change that had come over it was very apparent. The smooth forehead was ploughed deeply with wrinkles which were new to it, and the eyes had lost something of their expression of placid content.
But Hervey travelled his own road at his own gait. His thoughts he kept to himself. The man was more or less inscrutable to those about him.
To-day he had taken his dog with him. He had at length made up his mind to rid himself of the brute. The exhibition of that morning had decided him upon a course which he had long meditated, but had always failed to carry out when the critical moment arrived.