"Did you mark the way she veered from him to Mr. Jonathan the other
day?" inquired William Ming, "she's the sort that would flirt with a
scarecrow if thar warn't anything else goin'."

"The truth is that her eyes are bigger than her morals, an' I said it
the first time I ever seed her," rejoined old Adam. "My taste, even when
I was young, never ran to women that was mo' eyes than figger."

Still discoursing, they stumbled out into the dusk, through which Abel's
large figure loomed ahead of them.

"A man that's born to trouble, an' that of the fightin' kind--as the
sparks fly upward," added the elder.

As the miller drove out of the wood, the rustle of the leaves under his
wheels changed from the soft murmurs in the moist hollows to the crisp
crackle in the open places. In the west Venus hung silver white over the
new moon, and below the star and the crescent a single pine tree stood
as clearly defined as if it were pasted on a grey background of sky.

Half a mile farther on, where his road narrowed abruptly, a voice
hallooed to him as he approached, and driving nearer he discerned dimly
a man's figure standing beside a horse that had gone lame.

"Halloo, there? Have you a light? My horse has got a stone or cast a
shoe, I can't make out which it is."

Reaching for the lantern under his seat, Abel alighted and after calling
"Whoa!" to his mare, walked a few steps forward to the stationary