Seth was now restored to something like his old self. His vigor was a thing to marvel at. His regular day’s work was only a tithe of what he did. 271 That which went on after the rest of the household had retired to rest was known to only two others. Rube possessed the younger man’s confidence, and Jimmy Parker was in constant communication with him. Seth and the latter worked hand in hand for the common welfare, but they were silent. Each knew the character of the dangers which ever surrounded them. Each knew that an absolute silence and apparent indifference were the only means of learning the plans, the meaning of the furtive unrest of the warlike Sioux. All that they learned was carefully stored and docketed for future reference.
Parker’s responsibility was official. Seth’s was voluntary and humanitarian. Now he had a double incentive. Rosebud was in danger. He knew that he alone stood between her and the treacherous machinations of Nevil Steyne, and the lawless passion of an unscrupulous savage. He dared not spare himself. He must know of every movement on the Reservation. He quite understood the men he was dealing with. He knew the motive of each. All he hoped was that he might prove himself just a shade cleverer, a shade quicker in emergency when the time came for him to act.
It was impossible, however, that Seth should leave the house night after night and no member of the household be the wiser. Oddly enough it was Mrs. Rickards’ maid who discovered his movements. She, with a discretion which a confidential servant 272 may always be expected to possess, whispered her discovery to her mistress, and her mistress was not slow in drawing Rosebud’s attention. As they were retiring one night she told the girl of her maid’s discovery.
“Janet tells me that Mr. Seth goes out every night and doesn’t return till two or three in the morning, Rosie,” she said abruptly, as she was preparing for bed. “You know the girl sleeps over the kitchen, and some nights ago she saw him ride off from the barn in the moonlight. Last night she was awake when he got back. It was daylight. I wonder where he goes?”
Rosebud responded in a matter-of-fact tone, but with a quick look at her friend.
“I wonder.”
Mrs. Rickards wondered and speculated on, but Rosebud’s manner gave her no encouragement, and she was fain to let the matter drop. There was no malice in her remarks, but a very profound curiosity.
Her announcement had its effect.
The next night Rosebud did not go to bed after retiring to their room. She made no explanation, merely telling her aunt that she was not going to bed yet. And Mrs. Rickards nodded a comprehensive smile at her.
The girl waited a reasonable time till she thought the others were asleep, then she crept softly down-stairs. She went into the kitchen, but it was dark and empty. The parlor was also in darkness, except 273 for the moonlight pouring in through the window. But as she stood in the doorway, peering closely into the remoter corners, she felt a cool draught playing upon her face. Then she saw that the door opening on the verandah was open.