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Storefield's farm we were quite agreeable and pleasant again, Jim makin' believe his horse could walk fastest, and saying that her mare's pace was only a double shuffle of an amble like Bilbah's, and she declaring that the mare's was a true walk and so it was. The mare could do pretty well everything but talk, and all her paces were first-class. Old Mrs.
Aileen wasn't like to leave poor old mother as long as she wanted her, so it couldn't come off for a year or two at earliest, and many things were sure to happen in the meanwhile. So we let all the talking and walking and riding out in the evening go on as much as they pleased, and never said anything or seemed to take any notice at all about it. All this time mother was at George Storefield's.
I felt quite deserted, I can tell you. 'He wouldn't have gone away at all if you'd held up your little finger, you know that, you hard-hearted girl, said Grace, trying to frown. 'It's all your fault. 'Oh! I couldn't interfere with Mr. Storefield's business, said Aileen, looking very grave. 'What kind of a country was it you were out in?
'Run up my horse, Dick, she says, 'and I'll take you over to see George Storefield's new place. A ride will do me good, and I daresay you're not tired. I caught her horse and saddled him for her, and off we went down the old track we knew so well all our lives.
George Storefield's place, for the old man was dead and all the place belonged to him and Gracey, quite stunned Jim and me. We'd been away more than a year, and he'd pulled down the old fences and put up new ones first-rate work it was too; he was always a dead hand at splitting.
All petty stealers were most severely punished into the bargain. As I stood up to say good-bye a small note dropped out of my breast-pocket. It had shifted somehow. Kate always had an eye like a hawk. With one spring she pounced upon it, and before I could interfere opened and read it! It was Gracey Storefield's. She stood for one moment and glared in my face. I thought she had gone mad.
He must have been a smart, handy kind of lad, and what a different look his face must have had then! We had our own horses in pretty good trim, so we foraged up Aileen's mare, and made it up to ride over to George Storefield's, and gave him a look-up. He'd been away when we came, and now we heard he was home. 'George has been doing well all this time, of course, I said.
'Ben Marston, by all that's lucky, boys! says he, as two of the other chaps came running down at the shot. 'We've got the ould sarpint out of his hole at last. With that they all fires at father as quick as they could draw; and Aileen gives one scream and starts running along the track up the hill that leads to George Storefield's place.
Besides this, it seems since he'd heard of her being at the ball at Turon he'd taken a great fancy to Aileen, and used to talk to her as much as she'd let him, when she was at George Storefield's and any other place where he met her. He wouldn't have had much chance of saying the second word, only he was a good-natured, amusing sort, and always as respectful to her as if she'd been a lady.
Well, we scribbled a bit of a letter and sent Warrigal off with it. Wasn't it dangerous for him? Not a bit of it. He could go anywhere all over the whole country, and no trooper of them all could manage to put the bracelets on him. The way he'd work it would be to leave his horse a good way the other side of George Storefield's, and to make up as a regular blackfellow.
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