And this hair perplexed her, for she did not know what to do with it; she did not know whether it was to be seen or not seen; whether to braid it in two great ropes, or roll it carelessly or carefully above her head, or let it hang loosely about her shoulders held only at the nape with a piece of ribbon or stuff. An hesitation such as this was new to her; she had never had occasion for such forethought; it was strange and inquieting; more disturbing, indeed, than the visit at black of night of those tall strangers whose eyes and voices were so quiet, and whose appointments flashed in the firelight while they spoke to her father of the things in which travellers are interested.
She looked at them where they lay, but they were scarcely more than visible—a tangle of flowing cloths and great limbs fading away in the rank grasses and the obscurity, and to her mind the real wonder was not that they had come, but that they were still there, and that they were sleeping deeply and peacefully as she had slept so often, with her head pillowed on her arm and her limbs folded calmly between the earth and the sky.
IV
Her hair was not braided; it was tied at the neck with a piece of whitish cloth torn from some part of her clothing, and upon her shoulders it billowed and rolled in magnificent living abundance.
Very gently she moved to where her father lay on his back with his mouth open and his black chin jutting at the sky. He was breathing through his mouth, so he was not snoring any longer. She lifted the three or four sacks which covered him, and rocked his shoulders cautiously until he awakened.
Her father awakened exactly as she did, exactly as every open-air animal does; his eyes flew wide, instantly and entirely wakeful, and he looked at her with full comprehension of their adventure. He raised softly on an elbow and glanced to where the strangers were; then nodded to his daughter and rose noiselessly to his feet. She beckoned him and they stepped a few paces away so that they might talk in security.
Mary was about to speak but her father prevented her:
“Listen,” he whispered, “the best thing we can do is to load the things into the cart, without making any noise, mind you! then we’ll yoke the little ass as easy as anything, and then I’ll get into the cart and I’ll drive off as hard as ever I can pelt, and you can run beside the ass with a stick in your hand and you welting the devil out of him to make him go quick. I’m no good myself at the running, and that’s why I’ll get into the cart, but you can run like a hare, and that’s why you’ll wallop the beast.”
“Mind now,” he continued fiercely, “we don’t know who them fellows are at all, and what would the priest say if he heard we were stravaiging the country with three big, buck angels, and they full of tricks maybe; so go you now and be lifting in the things and I’ll give you good help myself.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind,” whispered Mary angrily, “and it wasn’t for that I woke you up.”
“Won’t you, indeed?” said her father fiercely.
“What would they be thinking of us at all if they were to rouse and see us sneaking off in that way? I’m telling you now that I won’t do it, and that you won’t do it either, and if you make a move to the cart I’ll give a shout that will waken the men.”
“The devil’s in you, you strap!” replied her father, grinding his teeth at her. “What call have we to be mixing ourselves up with holy angels that’ll be killing us maybe in an hour or half an hour; and maybe they’re not angels at all but men that do be travelling the land in a circus and they full of fun and devilment?”
“It’s angels they are,” replied his daughter urgently, “and if they’re not angels itself they are rich men, for there’s big rings of gold on their fingers, and every ring has a diamond in it, and they’ve golden chains across their shoulders, I’m telling you, and the stuff in their clothes is fit for the children of a king. It’s rich and very rich they are.”
Mac Cann rasped his chin with his thumb.
“Do you think they are rich folk?”
“I do, indeed.”
“Then,” said her father in an abstracted tone, “we won’t say anything more about it.”
After a moment he spoke again:
“What were you thinking about yourself?”
“I was thinking,” she replied, “that when they waken up in a little while there won’t be anything at all for them to eat and they strangers.”
“Hum!” said her father.
“There’s two cold potatoes in the basket,” she continued, “and a small piece of bread, and there isn’t anything more than that; so let you be looking around for something to eat the way we won’t be put to shame before the men.”
“It’s easy talking!” said he; “where am I to look? Do you want me to pick red herrings out of the grass and sides of bacon off the little bushes?”
“We passed a house last night a mile down the road,” said Mary; “go you there and get whatever you’re able to get, and if you can’t get anything buy it off the people in the house. I’ve three shillings in my pocket that I was saving for a particular thing, but I’ll give them to you because I wouldn’t like to be shamed before the strange men.”
Her father took the money:
“I wish
