Danger! No fear for him if the danger were honest and open. She glanced ahead and suddenly saw a dark figure, tall and broad but bent a little, standing with back toward her on the top of the ridge,—her grandfather. He, too, seemed to be listening to the singing as he gazed over the ridge toward the path on the other side; he made no move of any sort, but in the very stillness and stealthiness of his standing there—hidden by a tree from view from the other side—she felt menace. Imagined it, perhaps; for her mind was full of many things now.
Her grandfather heard the horses and Sam's voice and turned about. Ethel called up to him and waved; he waved back but for a moment did not reply. That is, he did not reply aloud. He remained standing;; and Ethel knew that he was talking to himself, trying over what first he would say to her before he came down the hill and said it.
"Well, my dear, you're here, are you? Where's your friend from the train? That he, singing, eh? Won't come to my house. Did you ask him?"
"Yes, grandfather. But he said to thank you; he'd call later. He wanted to go first to the Rock."
"So he'll call later, eh? Now who is he? You can tell me that, I see. What's brought him here to the Rock? I'll know all about that fellow."
Ethel gazed into her grandfather's eyes,—little, blood-shot but keen under his low, bushy, white brows. She said nothing aloud as she closed her lips; but to herself, defiance spoke.
"Not from me," the unuttered words determined. "Never from me."
