"But what can I do?" she inquired calmly.
"There are other kinds of snakes, too," he went on with increasing solicitude for this girl for whom, suddenly, he began to consider himself responsible. "There's a vicious snake called a moccasin; and he won't get out of your way or warn you. And there's a wicked little serpent with rings of black, scarlet, and yellow around his body. He pretends to be harmless, but if he gets your finger into his mouth he'll chew it full of a venom which is precisely the same sort of venom as that of the deadly East Indian cobra."
"But—what can I do?" she repeated pitifully. "If I go to St. Augustine and leave you here in possession, it might invalidate my claim."[184]
He was silent, knowing no more about the law than did she, and afraid to deny her tentative assertion.
"If it lay with me," he said, "I'd call a truce until you could go to St. Augustine and return again with the proper people to look out for you."
"Even if you were kind enough to do that, I could not afford even a servant under present—and unexpected—conditions."
"Why?"
"Because it has suddenly developed that I shall be obliged to engage a lawyer. And I had not expected that."
He reddened to his hair but said nothing. After a while the girl looked over her shoulder. The puppy slept, this time with both eyes closed.
When she turned again to Gray, he nodded his comprehension and rose to his feet cautiously.