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Phoebe, to tell the truth, was a little confused as to where to convey her captive, out of whom she meant to get a little amusement for the long winter afternoon. For a girl of her active mind, it may easily be imagined that a succession of long days with Mrs. Tozer was somewhat monotonous.
Ethel did not think Lady Dalrymple could go further than this place, and the priest offered to find some accommodations. He then left them, and in about half an hour he returned with two or three peasants, each of whom had a horse. "They'll be able to bring the leedies," said the priest, "and haul the impty wagons afther thim." "I think, miss," said Tozer, "that you'd better stay here.
"Except that he's been good to the child, Tozer; we can't forget as he's been very good to the child." "Oh, dash the child!" cried the old man, infuriated; "if you say much more I'll be sorry I ever let you see her face. What has she done with my bill?" "Bill? if it's only a bill what are you so put out about!" cried Mrs. Tozer. "You'll have dozens again at Christmas, if that is all you want."
He stood still, struggling no longer, with his eyes fixed upon the homely figure of the old butterman, who stood trembling, thunderstruck, with that fatal piece of paper in his hand. Tozer had been mad for revenge two moments before almost as wild as the guilty man before him with a fierce desire to punish and make an example of the man who had wronged him.
The attempts of his friends during the day to help or to get trace of Fred Greenwood had been brought to naught, and it looked as if they would have to consent to the humiliating terms of Tozer and Motoza, with strong probability that the missing youth was never again to be seen alive. "I think, Hank," said Jack, when the cowman had lit his pipe, "that we should run no more risks."
Jack's dread was that Hazletine, despite his undoubted skill, would frighten Tozer and Motoza by his efforts to defeat their purpose, and drive them into slaying Fred and making off before they could be punished. But the cowman had his own views, and it was too late to dissuade him.
"Good gracious!" cried Tozer; and seizing the priest's hand in both of his, he nearly wrung it off. "Why, what a providence! Why, really, now! And you were an Irishman all the time! And why didn't you speak English?" "Sure and what made you spake Latin?" cried the priest.
He proved that his appetite was as vigorous as ever, and was eager to reach the ranch with the least possible delay. Hank promised him no time should be wasted. A lookout was kept for Bill Tozer, the boys remaining in the cavern, where they could not be seen.
"Well, the Italian is a kind of offshoot of the Latin, and I can scrape together a few Latin words enough to make myself understood, I do believe." "Can you, really? How very fortunate!" "It is somewhat providential, miss, and I hope I may succeed." They walked on in silence now for some time. Ethel was too sad to talk, and Tozer was busily engaged in recalling all the Latin at his command.
I never heard of him. Who is he?" "What, never heard of Cumming?" "Never." "And never read his 'Great Tribulation?" "No." "Nor his 'Great Expectation?" "No." "What! not even his 'Apocalyptic Sketches?" "I never heard of them." Tozer looked at her in astonishment; but at this moment they came to a turn in the road, when a sight appeared which drew from Ethel an expression of joy.
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