"The matter I intended to have spoken to you about will do at another
time; but I'm still much obliged to you for your _good_ advice."
This was spoken with as much cutting politeness as could be well pressed
into the speech.
As he turned to leave, he said aside to his son, "Be home early, Warren.
I have something particular to say to you."
Warren nodded, and his father passed out of the house, not at all
pleased with the interview between himself and the backwoodsman.
Nothing disconcerts scheming men more than blunt honesty.
As soon as the governor was gone, Carrol commenced humming a song. His
new visitor waited for several moments before speaking to him.
"How is Nelatu?" he at length asked. "Will he be strong enough to
travel to-morrow?"
"Not quite," said Carrol, pausing in the chorus part of his ditty; "he'd
best remain here till his people come. They won't be long now, and the
stay will give him time to get right smart."
"What was it that vexed my father, Cris?"
"Well, I don't know 'cept he's took somethin' that's disagreed with him.
He _do_ seem riled considerable."
"But, Cris, are you really off to-morrow?"
"By sunrise," answered Carrol.
"Which way are you going?"
Cris looked slily at his questioner before answering.
"I don't know for sure whether it'll be along the bay, or across the big
swamp. The deer are gettin' scarce near the settlement, and I have to
go further to find 'em. That's all along of civilisation."
"If you go by the swamp you might do me a service," said Warren.
"Might I?" Then, after a thoughtful pause, the back woodsman
continued--"Well, you see, Warren, it won't be by the swamp. I've made
my mind up now, and I'm goin' along the bay."