feet and finally the thudding on the hard road of the retreat.
The sky hung low, powdered with stars, and the rim of the waning moon rose above the lake. And at his back the solid walls of old Grimstone. He liked to think the walls of Grimstone were at his back. . . . His back to the wall with all those curs of Mistwell yapping before him.
He thought of his brother and laughed. How disgusted Edmund would be with him! But he believed he was of coarser fibre than Edmund. He could not imagine his taking up with an Indian girl. He might have admired her, felt her charm—for a moment—but nothing more. He would not have been enchanted by her strangeness, as of some creature of the wildwood, he would not have been allured by those sliding velvet eyes.
The front door softly opened and in the shaft of light he saw Fawnie step out into the porch. She had on a yellow dress, a faded yellow he had seen by daylight, but now it looked as though it had been spun from the moon. Her hair was about her shoulders and she was barefooted. She peered about, plainly in search of him, but he kept still. As well try to hide from a soft-footed animal with the instincts of the forest. In a moment she was padding across the grass to him.
She leaned over him, looking inquiringly into his face.
"Did you get hurt, Durek?"
"No. I hurt some of those brutes, though."
She clapped her hands delightedly. "I'm glad, Durek. I wish you would have took an axe and chopped their heads off. Can I sit down aside you?"
"Yes. Sit down. It's cool out here. Were you frightened, Fawnie?"
"Yes, I was. My little heart she was like a fox hidin' in her hole from the dogs." She had dropped to the mound
