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The princess put her arms about Beverly's neck and drew her close. "But Mr. Lorry possesses an excellent pair of American eyes," protested Miss Beverly, loyally and very happily. "I know, dear, but they are a man's eyes. Somehow, there is a difference, you know. I wouldn't dare cry when he was looking, but I could boo-hoo all day if you were there to comfort me.
Petty dropped it in history class and never knew what had become of it. But Eleanor had that letter all the time, 'cause I saw her sneak into Beverly's room and snitch it. I don't know what she wanted with it, but after I saw her take it I watched her every single minute. I thought she would give it to Petty, of course, they're so stuck on each other, but she didn't.
We seven gaining on the rabble, in spite of the fact that many of them were mounted upon Major Robert Beverly's best horses, through their having less knowledge of horsemanship, closed around Mary Cavendish on Merry Roger, clearing the ground with long galloping bounds, and Catherine with the strange horseman was somewhat behind.
"Oh, he'll be 'Little Lees's' husband, and pull that Marcos cuss's nose if he tries to pull anybody's curls. Whoo-ee! as Aunty Boone would say," Beverly broke in. I kept a loving grip on the little hand that had found mine, as I would have gripped Beverly's hand sometimes in moments when we talked together as boys do, in the confidences they never give to anybody else.
The very loneliness was so appalling that Beverly's poor little heart was in a quiver of dread. Aunt Fanny, who sat near by, had not spoken since leaving the coach, but her eyes were expressively active. The tall leader stood near the fire, conversing with half a dozen of his followers. Miss Calhoun's eyes finally rested upon this central figure in the strange picture.
This afternoon, however, he made the proposal himself, so they strolled away to the main road that led through the one business street of the little town. At this hour there was little life in Beverly's main street. The farmers who drove in to trade had now returned home; the town women were busy getting supper and most of their men were at home feeding the stock or doing the evening chores.
There was a shameless streak of dust across her cheek, but there was also a dimple there that appealed to the grim old man. His eyes twinkled as he replied, with fine obsequiousness: "You are Miss Beverly Calhoun, of Washington." Beverly's eyes showed her astonishment. Baron Dangloss courteously placed a chair for her and asked her to be seated.
I wondered vaguely now about Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if things became too monotonous. I wondered about many things, but I could not think anything. "I have no present plans.
After a few moments' conversation, they had then saluted a second time. Lee, followed by his staff, rode toward his quarters; and Stuart set out to return to his own. We had ridden about half a mile, when Stuart turned his head and called me. I rode to his side. "I wish you would ride down toward Beverly's Ford, Surry," he said, "and tell Mordaunt to keep a bright lookout to-night.
His eyes went hungrily to Beverly's averted face, and then assumed a careless gleam which indicated that he had resigned himself to the inevitable. "I am constrained to ask you one question, sir," went on the princess. "You are not the common goat-hunter you assume. Will you tell me in confidence who you really are?" The others held their breath. He hesitated for a moment.
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