He lifted his eyes with a shadowy pain in them to hers, and found them
of serene, unconscious purity. What she had said was straight from a
kind, untainted, young heart. She meant every word of it. Freckles' soul
sickened. He scarcely knew whether he could muster strength to stand.
"We must go and hunt for the carriage," said the Angel, rising.
In instant alarm for her, Freckles sprang up, grasped the cudgel, and
led the way, sharply watching every step. He went as close the log as he
felt that he dared, and with a little searching found the carriage. He
cleared a path for the Angel, and with a sigh of relief saw her enter it
safely. The heat was intense. She pushed the damp hair from her temples.
"This is a shame!" said Freckles. "You'll never be coming here again."
"Oh yes I shall!" said the Angel. "The Bird Woman says that these birds
remain over a month in the nest and she would like to make a picture
every few days for seven or eight weeks, perhaps."
Freckles barely escaped crying aloud for joy.
"Then don't you ever be torturing yourself and your horse to be coming
in here again," he said.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133