She clung to her father's hand in a tremor of
sympathetic fear as she heard of the doings of that memorable night
in the rude hut amid the snows of the Little St. Bernard; but that
Tom was a greater hero than ever in her eyes, after she had heard
all, could not for a moment be doubted, and perhaps that was why
she felt that in him she could safely confide a secret fear which
was troubling her own mind.
She waited till her father had gone down to set the dinner upon the
table; but when once she and Tom were alone together she was not
long in opening her trouble.
"Do you remember those four ill men who set upon you in the street
that day when first you walked abroad with us?"
"Yes, I know them well--a set of cowardly braggarts and bullies!
Sure, Mistress Rose, they are not troubling you yet?"
"I fear me they are," she answered, with a shadow of fear in her
eyes. "I saw nought of them through the dark winter months. Indeed,
I had well-nigh forgotten that any such creatures lived. Then when
the spring days began to come, and the streets of the city became
gayer, I thought once or twice that I saw them in the throngs as we
walked hither and thither; but they never accosted us, and I gave
the matter little heed.
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