"We've sold the sheep � at least Abraham has," said the young man joyously, as he held out his hand. "Sold them well, too, Glory!"
The girl's entire face was transformed. The cloud that had hung over it cleared, the hard eyes softened, and a kindly light beamed from them. The set lips became flexible and smiled. Elijah noted the change, and his brow grew darker, his eye more threatening.
Mehalah strode forward, and held out her hand to clasp that offered her. Elijah swung his musket suddenly about, and unless she had hastily recoiled, the barrel would have broken her wrist.
"You refused my hand," he said, "although you are mine. I bought the Ray for eight hundred pounds." Then turning to the young man with sullenness, he asked, "George De Witt, what brings you here?"
"Why cousin, I've a right to be here as well as you."
"No, you have not. I have bought the Ray, and no man sets foot on this island against my will."
The young man laughed good-humouredly.
"You won't keep me off your property then, Elijah, so long as Glory is here.
Elijah restrained himself with an effort. His eyes followed every movement of Mehalah Sharland. She pointed to the canvas bag on the table and said, "There is the money. Will you take the rent at once?"
I will not touch it till it is due, next Thursday. You will bring it me then to Red Hall."
"Is the boat all right?" asked the young man.
"Yes, George!" answered the girl, " she is on the hard where you anchored her this morning. What have you been getting in Colchester today?"
"I bought some groceries for mother," he said, "and there is a present for you. Help me to thrust the boat off, will you, Glory?"
"She is afloat now. I must give Abraham his supper first."
"Thank ye," said the old man. "George De Witt and me stopped at the Rose and had a bite. I must go after the cows." He went out.
"Will you sup with us, George?" asked the widow. "There is something in the pot will be ready directly."
"Thank you all the same," he replied, "I want to be back as soon as I can; besides you and Glory have company." Then turning to the girl, "Help me with my boat."
"Don't be gone for long, Mehalah!" said her mother.
"I shall be back directly."
Elijah Rebow did not utter a word, but watched Glory go out with De Witt, and then a grim smile curdled his rugged cheeks. He seated himself opposite the widow, and spread his great hands over the fire. The shadow of his strongly featured face and expanded hands was cast on the opposite wall, as the flame flickered, the shadow hands seemed to open and shut, to stretch and grasp.
The gold had died out of the sky and only a pearly twilight crept in at the window. The old woman remained silent. She was afraid of the new landlord. She had long known him, and she had never liked him, and she liked less to have him now in a place of power over her.
Presently Rebow rose from his seat, and laying aside his gun said, "I too have brought a present, but not for Glory. She must know nothing of this; it is for you. I put the keg outside the door under the whitethorn. I knew a drop of spirits was good for the ague. We get spirits cheap, or I would not give you any." He was unable to do a gracious act without marring its merit by an ungracious word. "I will fetch it in."
He went out and returned with a little keg under his arm. "Where is it to go?" he asked.
"Oh, Master Rebow! this is good of you, and I am thankful. My ague does pull me down sorely."
"Damn your ague, who cares about it!" he said surlily. "Where is the keg to go?"
"Let me roll it in," said the old woman, jumping up. "There are better cellars and storeplaces here than anywhere between this and Tiptree Heath."
"Saving mine at Red Hall, and those at Salcot Rising Sun," interjected the man.
"You see, Rebow, in times gone by, a great many smuggled goods were stowed away here; but much does not come this way now," with a sigh.
"It goes to Red Hall instead," said Rebow. "Ah! if you were there, your life would be a merry one. There! take the keg. I have had trouble enough bringing it here. Stow it away where you like; and draw me a glass � I am dry."
He flung himself in the chair again, and let the old woman take the keg to some secure hiding-place where, in days gone by, many much larger barrels had been stored away. She soon returned.
"I have not tapped this," she said. "The liquor will be muddy. I have drawn a little from the other that you gave me."
Elijah took the glass and tossed it off, chuckling to himself.
"You will say a word for me to Glory."
"Rely on me, Elijah. None has given me anything for my chill but you. But Mehalah will find it out, I reckon; she suspects already."
He paid no heed to her words.
"So she is not mine," he muttered derisively to himself. He rose again, and took his gun.
"I'm off," he said, and strode to the door.
At the same moment Mehalah appeared at it, her face clear and smiling.
"Well!" snarled Rebow, "what did he give you?"
"That is no concern of yours," answered the girl, and tried to pass. He put his fowling piece across the door and barred the way.
"What did he give you?" he asked in his dogged manner.
"I might refuse to answer," she said carelessly, "but I do not mind your knowing; the whole world may know. This!" She produced an Indian red silk kerchief which she flung over her shoulders and knotted under her chin. With her rich complexion, hazel eyes, dark hair and scarlet cap, lit by the red fire flames, she looked a gipsy, and splendid in her beauty. Rebow lowered his gun, thrust her aside furiously, and flung himself out of the door.
"He is gone at last!" said the girl with a gay laugh.
Rebow put his head in again. His lips were drawn back and his white teeth glistened.
"You will pay the rent next Thursday. I give no grace."
Then he was gone.
Chapter 2 The Rhyn
"MOTHER," said Mehalah, "are you better now?"
"Yes, the fit is off me, but I am left terribly weak."
"Mother, will you give me the medal?"
"What? Your grandmother's charm? You cannot want it!"
"It brings luck, and saves from sudden death. I wish to give it to George."
"No, Mehalah! You must keep it yourself."
"It is mine, is it not?"
"No, child; it is not yours yet. You shall have it some future day."
"I want it at once, that I may give it to George. He has made me a present of this red kerchief for my neck, but I have made him no return I have nothing that I can give him save that medal. Let me have it."
"It must not go out of the family, Mehalah."
"It will not. You know what is between George and me."
The old woman hesitated, but was so much in the habit of yielding to her daughter, that she was unable to maintain her opposition. She crept out of the room to fetch the article demanded of her.
When she returned, Mehalah was standing before the fire.
"There is it," grumbled