Zerah stood in uncertainty.
“I wish you’d not go, Pasco.”
“I may or may not—but be off, or you’ll get stuck in the mud, as did Kitty.”
In ten minutes Pasco was alone. He stood on the platform where were the tea-tables and benches, and watched till his wife was half-way across. Then he drew a long breath, and passed through the house, went out at the main door, and hastened to the cart. Again he stood still, and looked searchingly in every direction; then he let down the flap behind, drew out first the sack of shavings and carried it within, and then he cleared out all that remained. He was not satisfied till with a broom he had swept every particle of chip within, leaving not a tell-tale white atom without. Then he tacked some scraps of sacking over the window that no one might look within, and he proceeded to place bundles of the shavings among the coals, not in one great heap, but dispersed in handfuls here and there, and he broke up some pieces of board into splinters and thrust them among the shavings.
He was startled by a voice calling in the door, “Uncle, are you here?”
Hot, agitated, and alarmed, Pasco hastened to the entrance, and saw Kate.
“What do you want? Why are you shouting?”
“Where is aunt? I want to see her. I cannot find her in the house. I have something to tell her.”
“You are not like to find her,” said Pepperill, coming outside and locking the door behind him. “She is gone over the water, and will stay at Cousin Bray’s; and I’m off to Brimpts again, and mean to take you.”
“Why, uncle! we have but just returned from there.”