Part 28 (2/2)

At regular intervals the howling note of a lone heron echoed the strident screech of a crimson-crested crane; the horned owl's savage hunting-cry haunted the night, now near, now floating from infinite distances.

And after a while I became aware of a nearer sound, low-pitched but ceaseless--the hum of thousands of lesser living creatures blending to a steady monotone.

Then the theatrical moon came up through filmy draperies of waving Spanish moss thin as cobwebs; and far in the wilderness a cougar fell a-crying and coughing like a little child with a bad cold.

I went in after that. Miss Barrison was sitting before the oven, knees gathered in her clasped hands, languidly studying the fire. She looked up as I appeared, opened the oven-doors, sniffed the aroma, and resumed her att.i.tude of contented indifference.

”Where is the professor?” I asked.

”He has retired. He's been talking in his sleep at moments.”

”Better take it down; that's what you're here for,” I observed, closing and holding the outside door. ”Ugh! there's a chill in the air. The dew is pelting down from the pines like a steady fall of rain.”

”You will get fever if you roam about at night,” she said. ”Mercy!

your coat is soaking. Sit here by the fire.”

So I pulled up a bench and sat down beside her like the traditional spider.

”Miss m.u.f.fitt,” I said, ”don't let me frighten you away--”

”I was going anyhow--”

”Please don't.”

”Why?” she demanded, reseating herself.

”Because I like to sit beside you,” I said, truthfully.

”Your avowal is startling and not to be substantiated by facts,” she remarked, resting her chin on one hand and gazing into the fire.

”You mean because I went for a stroll by moonlight? I did that because you always seem to make fun of me as soon as the professor joins us.”

”Make fun of you? You surely don't expect me to make eyes at you!”

There was a silence; I toasted my s.h.i.+ns, thoughtfully.

”How is your burned finger?” I asked.

She lifted it for my inspection, and I began a protracted examination.

”What would you prescribe?” she inquired, with an absent-minded glance at the professor's closed door.

”I don't know; perhaps a slight but firm pressure of the finger-tips--”

”You tried that this afternoon.”

”But the dog interrupted us--”

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