And then—oh, Lord!—she turns from her oven, takes his silly head between both hands, and gives him a smack on the lips!
"There," says she, "you have had of your sister what you never should have had of the Scottish lass of Caughnawaga!"
He got off the table at that, looking mighty pleased but sheepish, and muttered something concerning relieving me on post.
And so, lest I should be disgraced by my eavesdropping, and feeling mean and degraded, yet oddly contented that Penelope loved no man with secret passion, I slunk away, my moccasins making no sound.
So when Nick came to relieve me he discovered me still on post; and said he pettishly: "Penelope Grant hath clouted me, mind and body; and I am the better man by it, though somewhat sore; and I shall knock the head of any popinjay who fails in the respect all owe this girl. And I wish to God I had a hickory stick here, and Sir John Johnson across my knee!"
I went into my chamber and laid me down on my trundle bed.
I was contented. I no longer seemed to burn for the girl. Also, I knew she burned for no man. A vast sense of relief spread over me like a soft garment, warming and soothing me.
And so, pleasantly passed my sick passion for the Scottish girl; and pleasantly I fell asleep.