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But for the last two nights I had not found Lois waiting for me, nor did Mrs. Rannock seem to know whither she had gone, which caused me much uneasiness. The third evening I went to find her at Mrs. Rannock's before the after-glow had died from the coppery zenith, and I encountered her moving toward the Spring path, just entering the massed elder bloom.
They seemed ashamed, but told me, As I moved on, I said carelessly, partly turning: "Where is the Spring Waiontha?" "On the Lake Trail, sir first branch of the Stoney-Kill." "Is there a house there?" "Rannock's." "A path to find it?" "A sheep walk only. Rannock is dead. The destructives murdered him when they burned Cherry Valley. Mrs. Rannock brings us eggs and milk."
Rannock's every evening after dark, and usually found Lois lying in the open under the stars, the garret being like an oven, so she said. Here we had made up our quarrel, and here, on the patch of uncut English grass, we lay listlessly, speaking only at intervals, gasping for air and coolness, which neither darkness nor stars had brought to this sun-cursed forest-land.
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