"Now I wonder where
Caleb is," she said to herself, as she stood up and looked around;
"but he's like most men, always in the way or out of the way."
She turned suddenly with a white face. "Caleb was not with you?"
To her hearty relief Mr. Fogo understood the question and shook his
head. She helped him ashore. Though he walked with pain, he made an
obvious effort to lighten his weight on her shoulder; and this
returning bashfulness was a good sign, she thought. They passed
slowly up the steps; at the top he acknowledged her help with a
grateful look, but neither spoke until he was seated in a chair by
the kitchen fireplace.
Then she withdrew her attention for a moment to glance round upon the
clumsy appliances and masculine untidiness of the place. She noticed
that fully half the window-panes had been shattered by the explosion;
but otherwise the house had barely suffered.
"Is there any brandy or whiskey in the house?"
He shook his head.
"If you want to drink--" he began, but stopped hastily and added, "I
beg your pardon."
"Is there any tea?"
He pointed to the cupboard, but dropped his arm with a groan.
She was at his side in a moment.
"Now, listen to me. You are not to stir or speak, but only to nod or
shake your head when I ask a question.
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