man--and I tried to forgive him. I can't do it. If I am quiet and let
alone, I forget. I've got to get up and go and hide, and I curse him that
done it. Please, sir, not tell Mr. Rivers what I say. I seen Miss Leila.
I always said Miss Leila would be a beauty. There ain't no young lady
here can hold a candle to her. I want to say I did have hope to see Mr.
John.

"God bless you, Captain.

"Your obedient servant,

"JOSIAH."

The Squire halted in the open pine forest on a wood-road behind the
cabin. He threw one leg over the pommel and sat still with the ease of a
horseman in any of the postures the saddle affords. "Read me both of
those letters again, and slowly."

This time John made no remarks. When he came to the end of Josiah's
letter, he looked towards the silent figure seated sideways. The Squire
made no comment, but searched his pockets for the flint and steel he
always carried. Lighting his pipe he slid to the ground.

"Take the rein, John," he said, "or the mare will follow me."

Penhallow was deep in the story these letters told, and he thought best
when walking. John sat in his saddle watching the tall soldierly figure
move up the road and back again to the cabin his ancestors had held
through one long night of fear. John caught sight of the face as
Penhallow came and then turned away on his slow walk, smoking furiously.