Hereupon Barnabas once more opened his book; yet he was quite aware
that the fugitive had thrust his head out of the ditch, and having
glanced swiftly about, was now regarding him out of the corners of
his eyes.
"Why do you stare at me?" he demanded suddenly.
"I was wondering why you took the trouble and risk of shielding such
a thing as I am," answered the fugitive.
"Hum!" said Barnabas, "upon my soul,--I don't know."
"No," said the man, with the ghostly smile upon his lips again,
"I thought not."
Now, as he looked at the man, Barnabas saw that his cheeks, beneath
their stubble, were hollow and pinched, as though by the cruel hands
of want and suffering. And yet in despite of all this and of the
grizzled hair at his temples, the face was not old, moreover there
was a merry twinkle in the eye, and a humorous curve to the
wide-lipped mouth that appealed to Barnabas.
"And you are a poacher, you say?"
"Yes, sir, and that is bad, I confess, but, what is worse, I was,
until I took to poaching, an honest man without a shred of character."
"How so?"
"I was discharged--under a cloud that was never dispelled.
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