She held out her hand, smiling. "No malice, Ruyven, and we'll forgive each other."
Her brother met the clasp; then, hands in his pockets, followed us back through the stockade towards the porch. I was pleased to see that his pride had suffered no more than his body from the fall he got, which augured well for a fair-minded manhood.
As we approached the house I heard hollow noises within, like groans; and I stopped, listening intently.
"It is Sir Lupus snoring," observed Ruyven. "He will wake soon; I think I had best call Tulip," he added, exchanging a glance with his sister; and entered the house calling, "Cato! Cato! Tulip! Tulip! I say!"
"Who is Tulip?" I asked of Dorothy, who lingered at the threshold folding her embroidery into a bundle.
"Tulip? Oh, Tulip cooks for us--black as a June crow, cousin. She is voodoo."
"Evil-eye and all?" I asked, smiling.
Dorothy looked up shyly. "Don't you believe in the evil-eye?"
I was not perfectly sure whether I did or not, but I said "No."
"To believe is not necessarily to be afraid," she added, quickly.