"As I have told you, I have lost everything but my good name and my sprained ankle. I had them both out with me when you"
"We will leave immediately," said Tish. "Aggie, bring Modestine."
"Ladies, ladies!" cried the young man. "Would you make me more wretched than I already am? I assure you, if you leave I shall not come back. I should be too unhappy."
Well, nothing could have been fairer than his attitude. He wished us to stay on. But as he limped a step or two into the night Aggie turned on us both in a fury.
"That's it," she said. "Let him go, of course. So long as you are dry and comfortable it doesn't matter about him."
"Well, you are dry and comfortable too," snapped Tish. "What do you expect us to do?"
"Call him back. Let him sleep here by the fire. Give him something to eat; he looks starved. If you're afraid it isn't proper we can hang our kimonos up for curtains and make him a separate room."
But we did not need to call him. He had limped back and stood in the firelight again.
"You—you haven't seen anything of the bandits, have you?" he asked.
"Bandits!"
