cloak, could, by being turned inside out, instantly change his whole
appearance, and mislead his pursuers--for he was the outlaw. Such was
the startling individual who now approached her, and at whose fierce
aspect she trembled--not less from her knowledge of the natural violence
of his character than from a consciousness of her interview with
Woodward.

"Well, Granua (Grace)," said he, quickly and with some vehemence, "where
have you been?"

"At the well," she replied; "have you eyes in your head? Don't you see
my pitcher?"

"I do; but what kept you there so long? and why is your voice tremblin',
as if you wor afeard, or did something wrong? Why is your face pale,
too?--it's not often so."

"The Lord save us, Shawn," replied Grace, attempting to treat those
pointed interrogatories with a jocular spirit, "how can you expect me to
answer such a catechize as you're puttin' to me at wanst."

"Answer me, in the mane time," he replied; "I'll have no doubling,
Granua."

"Has anything vexed you, Shawn?"

"_Chorp an diaoul!_ tell me why you staid so long at the well"--and as
he spoke his eyes flashed with resentment and suspicion.

"I didn't stay long at it."