Winthrop stopped certainly, but he waited in silence.
"I don't!"
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know — something —"
"What is the matter, Will?"
"Matter?" — said the other, while his fine features shewed the changing lights and shadows of a summer day, — "why Winthrop, that I am not willing to stay here and be a ploughman all my life, when I might be something better!"
The other's heart beat. But after an instant, he answered calmly,
"How can you be anything better, Will?"
"Do you think all the world lies under the shadow of Wut-a- qut-o?"
"What do you mean?"