Part 30 (1/2)

Why cannot you let us alone? I hate you! Yes, I hope there is no doubt now that I am low--hate you!”

She stamped her foot in pa.s.sion as two angry tears sparkled in her eyes.

”Why, Tamsin!” cried Paul's voice at the door, ”the Shenachrum not ready yet? I niver knawed 'ee so long afore.”

She turned sharply, caught up the pan, and stooped over the fire again. But the glow on her cheeks now was hotter than any fire could bring.

”'Tes rare stuff, sir,” said the Twin encouragingly, as Tamsin filled a steaming gla.s.s, and handed it, without a look, to Mr. Fogo.

”Leastways, 'tes thought a deal of i' these parts by them as, wi'out bein' perlite, es yet reckoned jedges.”

Mr. Fogo took the gla.s.s and sipped bravely. The stuff was so hot that tears sprang to his eyes, but he gulped it down, nevertheless.

”An' now, sir,” began Peter, who had joined the group, and was looking on approvingly, ”Paul an' me was considerin' in the back-kitchen, an' agreed that makin' so bold as to ax 'ee, an' hopin'

'twont' be thought over free, you must stay the night, seein' you've took this cold, an' the night air bein', as es well known, terrable apt to give 'ee inflammation.”

”We'd planned,” put in Paul, ”to go down wi' the boat to Kit's House an' fetch up your things, and tell Caleb about et, so's he shudn' be decomposed. An' Tamsin'll tell 'ee there's a room at your sarvice, an' reckoned purty--lookin' on to the bee-skeps an' the orchard at the back,” he explained with a meaning glance at Tamsin, who was silent.

”Why, Tamsin, girl, what's amiss that you don't spake?” asked Peter; and then his amazement got the better of his tact, as he added in a stage whisper, ”'Tes on'y to change rooms. Paul an' me can aisy sleep down here afore the fire; an' us on'y offered your room as bein' more genteel--”

”I a.s.sure you,” broke in Mr. Fogo, ”that I am quite recovered of my chill, thanks to your kindness, and would rather return--much rather: though I thank you all the same.” He spoke to the Twins, but kept his eyes on Tamsin.

”No kindness at all,” muttered Peter. His face fell, and he, too, looked at the girl.

Finding their eyes upon her, she was compelled to speak.

”Mr. Fogo wudn' care for the likes o' what we cou'd offer him,” she said. Then, seeing the pain on the men's faces, she added with an effort to be gracious, ”But ef he can put up wi' us, he knows he shall be made welcome.”

She did not look up, and her voice, in which the peculiar sing-song of Trojan intonation was intentionally emphasised, sounded so strangely that still greater amazement fell upon the Twins.

”Why, Tamsin, I niver knawed 'ee i' this mood afore,” stammered Paul.

”I a.s.sure you,” interposed Mr. Fogo, ”that I value your hospitality more than I can say, and shall not forget it. But it would be absurd to accept it when I am so near home. If one of you would consent to row me down to Kit's House, it would be the exact kindness I should prefer.”

The Twins a.s.sented, though not without regret at his refusal to accept more. Paul agreed to row him down, and the two started in the early twilight. As he shook Peter's hand, Mr. Fogo looked at Tamsin.

”Good-night,” he said.

”Good-night, sir.”

She did not offer to shake hands; she scarcely even looked up, but stood there before the chimney-place, with the fire-light outlining her form and throwing into deep shadow the side of her face that was towards him. One arm was thrown up to grasp the mantelshelf, and against this her head rested. The other hung listlessly at her side.

And this was the picture Mr. Fogo carried out into the grey evening.

As the door closed upon him, Peter sank into the stiff-backed chair beside the hearth with a puzzled sigh.

”Why, Tamsin,” he said, as he slowly drew out his pipe and filled it, ”what ailed 'ee, girl, to behave like that?”

Looking up, he saw a tear, and then a second, drop brightly on the hearth-stone.

”Little maid!”