Part 16 (1/2)
”Ah, Alice, you here?” said he, facing towards her. ”I did not know you were abroad--”
It was her brother Warren.
Alice recognised in the ”black rascal” no less a personage than Crookleg.
Warren thrust a piece of silver into the negro's hands.
”There, there, that'll do. I'll forgive you this time, but remember!
Now be off with you--be off, I say.”
Crookleg, cut short in his attempt to address Alice, hobbled away, muttering some words to himself.
”Why, Warren,” asked his sister, ”what makes you speak so harshly to poor Crookleg?”
”Because he's a pestilent fellow. I want him to know his place.”
”But a kind word doesn't cost much.”
”There, sister! no scolding, if you please. I'm not in the best of humours now. Where is your horse?”
Alice told her brother of the incident, and spoke warmly of Carrol.
”So the old hunter did you a good service, did he? I didn't think he had it in him, the old bear.”
”How unjust you are, Warren. Bear, indeed! I tell you that Cris Carrol is as good a gentleman as ever lived!”
As she said this she showed signs of indignation.
”Is he, indeed!” was the brother's mocking retort.
”Yes--a thorough gentleman! One who wouldn't wound another's feelings if he could help it--and that's my idea of a gentleman!”
”Well, we won't argue the point. He has done good this time, and that'll go to his credit; for all that, I don't like him!”
Alice bit her lip with vexation, but made no reply.
”He's too officious,” continued Warren; ”too free with his advice--and I hate advice!”
”Most people do, especially when it is good,” quickly answered his sister.
”Who said it was good?”
”I know it is, or you would have liked it, and have followed it.”
”You are sarcastic.”
”No--truthful.”
”Well, as I am in no mode for quarrelling, we'll drop the subject, and Cris Carrol too.”
”_You_ may, but I shall never drop him. He is my friend from this time forward!”