He bowed, not daring to raise his eyes to hers lest she should recognise him. But he need not have feared on that score, for to her he was merely the clean-cut outline of a shadow;––but even had it not been so, the difference between the young, beardless man before her and the haggard, broken convict whom she had befriended that night was greater by far than Phil even could have imagined.
Fortunately for his peace of mind, a sudden cry from the stable burst in on the momentary quietness.
Eileen turned her head quickly, then she ran over to her father anxiously and held his arms.
“Dad,––what is that?”
“Hush, dearie!––it’s Hanson.”
“But––but where is he?” she asked.
“In the barn, tied up good and tight,––quite safe.”
“But it isn’t right, daddy, to tie a man up like that. He’s not a beast, and he’s a kind-hearted decent fellow when he is well.”
“When he is well, Eilie,––yes! But he isn’t well. Better for him that we tie him up for a day every once in a while, than confine him in a lunatic asylum for the term of his natural life. That is what would have to be otherwise.”