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He was a gentleman, in spite of all, and this man was a common river-boss. Presently he drew himself up with an air. The heavy board was still in his arms. Brydon came over and took the board, looking him squarely in the eyes. "Mr. Rupert," he said, "I want to ask something." The old man nodded. "I helped you out of a bad scrape on the river?" Again the old man nodded.
Brydon breathed his wonder till the very impunity of his attitude and the very insistence of his eyes produced, as he felt, a sudden stir which showed the next instant as a deeper portent, while the head raised itself, the betrayal of a braver purpose. The hands, as he looked, began to move, to open; then, as if deciding in a flash, dropped from the face and left it uncovered and presented.
He was confident that Evelyn's father would not recognize him with his crop of whiskers and sunburnt face. His mind was full of conflicting emotions. "Maybe you know him," said the old man. "His name is Brydon. They live somewhere near the Stopping-House." "I've not lived here long," said Fred, evasively, "but I've heard of them."
"Every one asks me what I 'think' of everything," said Spencer Brydon; "and I make answer as I can begging or dodging the question, putting them off with any nonsense.
It sounded two or three times before the real significance of it occurred to him, so intent was he upon his own affairs. But louder and more insistent came the unmistakable call for help. A fierce temptation assailed Fred Brydon. He must not delay every minute was precious to save Evelyn, his wife, was surely more his duty than to set lost travellers on their way again.
That's different altogether from us." He gave a sidelong glance at Brydon, and saw a troubled look. "Yes," Brydon said, "he is different; and so is she." "She is a lady," Pierre said, with slow emphasis. "She couldn't hide it if she tried. She plays the piano, and looks all silk in calico. Made for this?" he waved his hand towards the Bridge House. "No, no! made for "
The messenger was Dr Brydon, and he now reported his belief that he was the sole survivor of an army of some 16,000 men! From this wholesale butchery, which we are not disposed to detail, the women and children, the general, and the husbands of the ladies, were rescued by Akbar Khan.
Brydon saw a woman standing at a window of the House waving her arms, and there floated up the river the words, "Father! father!" He caught up a pikepole, and ran over that spinning floor of logs to the raft. The old man's face was white, but there was no fear in his eyes. "I cannot run the logs," he said at once; "I never did; I am too old, and I slip. It's no use.
Corbett's neighbor, young Mrs. Brydon, in such a way, that, as Mrs. Corbett afterwards explained to Da Corbett, "you could tell they had heard something." "Our lads saw her over at the Orangemen's ball in Millford, and they said Rance Belmont was with her more than her own man," said Mrs. Berry, as she melted the frost from her eyebrows by holding her face over the stove. "Oh, well," Mrs.
Spencer Brydon meanwhile held his peace for the moment; the question of the "evil" hours in his old home had already become too grave for him.
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