“No,” said Ellen, “he’s gone in t’ Corvan.”
There was a world of meaning in the inflection.
“Yes? Now that’s too bad. It’s taken me a long time to come and I particularly wished to see him. Do you mind if I wait?”
“Why, no,” said Ellen a bit reluctantly, “no, sir, I guess not.”
Kenset swung off the brown horse and dropped the rein.
“Tired, Captain?” he asked whimsically, rubbing the sweaty mane, while the animal drew a long whistling breath and in turn rubbed the sticky brow band on its forehead on Kenset’s arm.
“Looks like he’s thirsty,” said Ellen presently. “There’s a trough round yonder at th’ back,” and she waved a long hand.
Kenset led Captain around back where a living spring sang and gurgled into a section of tree, deeply hollowed and covered with moss.
When he came back to the shade the woman had brought from some near place a second chair, and he dropped gratefully into it, weary from his long ride.
He laid his hat on the earth beside him and 123 smoothed the sleek, dark hair back from his forehead.