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Updated: May 27, 2025
"Run for the doctor, Luke," cried Auntie Jean, wasting no time in questions, as she lifted little drenched, burned Kenneth tenderly in her arms, and flew with him towards the house, leaving Eliza to help Cricket. Kenneth's clothes were so badly burned that they fell off from him when she laid him down.
"Hearty, old fellow, and happy to see my ancient chum. How d'ye do, Miss Penelope? How are ye, Mr Stuart?" My son Gildart had been Kenneth's favourite companion when they were boys at school. They had not met for many years.
"Then who is the other Mr. Traynor?" Now it was Kenneth's turn to be surprised. "The other Mr. Traynor?" he echoed stupefied. "Yes the gentleman who looks more like you than you do yourself. He arrived here a month ago. We all took him for you." For the first time a light broke in on the darkness. Who was the person who looked so like him that he could successfully impersonate him?
A few seconds elapsed, and then Kenneth's ears caught the sound of footsteps in the soft dirt road, and presently the subdued murmur of voices. "Women," observed Stain, laconically, lowering his voice. "Let 'em pass. If we show ourselves now, they'll think we're highwaymen or something, an' begin screechin' fer dear life."
Then suddenly changing his voice to a more vehement key, "Know you on what errand you rode to London?" he demanded. "To betray your father into the hands of his enemies; to deliver him up to the hangman." Kenneth's eyes grew wide; his mouth fell open, and a frown of perplexity drew his brows together. Dully, uncomprehendingly he met Sir Crispin's sad gaze. "My father," he gasped at last.
Kenneth's imagination penetrated to sacred precincts beyond the solid logs: he pictured her in the other frock, moving gracefully before the fascinated eyes of the settler's wife, proud as a peacock and yet as gay as the lark. "Women like to talk," observed Striker, with a sidelong glance at the lighted window. He led the way to the opposite end of the cabin and pointed off into the night.
We neither of us suspected at that time what bitter opposition to our wishes we were to receive from Kenneth's father, who, although in many respects a good man, was very stern unpleasantly stern. Having done all that could be done for the wrecked people, Lizzie and I returned to our residence in Wreckumoft at about four in the morning.
The renewal of the old relations had been very pleasant only too pleasant, Anne had of late begun to think. For the news of Kenneth's having decided to go abroad again had made her realise all he had become to her, and the discovery brought with it sharp misgiving, and even humiliation. "He does not care for me not as I do for him," she was saying to herself as she sat by the fire.
Two strong horses were hitched to the ranch-wagon, and the gay party drove away, leaving Mrs. Brewster waving her hand as they rumbled down the road past the Cliffs. The colored stones reminded Polly of Kenneth's story, and she turned to Eleanor and said: "I wonder if he wrote home to ask his mother about her brother?" "Even if he did it will be fully a fortnight before he can have an answer.
Kenneth's first act after hearing the alarm was to awake Joe, This he did by the simple expedient of yanking the bedclothes away from him and yelling "Fire!" at the top of his lungs. Then, stumbling over the chairs, he groped his way to the hall door and opened it. The corridor was already filled with excitement and confusion.
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