The Padre sat staring into space before the stove. Buck was in his favorite position at the open door, gazing out into the darkness of the night. As he smoked his evening pipe he was thinking, as usual, of the woman who was never quite out of his thoughts. He was intensely happy in the quiet fashion that was so much a part of him. It seemed to him unbelievable that he could have lived and been content before he met Joan. Now there could be no life without her, no world even. She pervaded his every sense, his whole being, with her beautiful presence.
He breathed deeply. Yes, it was all very, very wonderful. Then, by degrees, his thoughts ran on to the expected arrival of Joan's relative--that aunt whom he had heard so much about from the Padre. And in a moment an uneasy feeling made him shift his position. The Padre's story was still vivid in his mind; he could never forget it. Nor could he forget this woman's place in it. These thoughts set him speculating uneasily as to the possible result of her visit.
He surreptitiously glanced over at the silent figure beside the stove. The man's pipe was still in his mouth, but it had gone out. Also he saw, in that quick glance, that the fire in the stove had fallen low. But he made no move to replenish it. The night was very sultry.
He turned again to his contemplation of the outer world. The night was black, jet black. There was not a star visible. The mountain air had lost its cool snap, the accustomed rustle of the woods was gone. There was a tense stillness which jarred in an extraordinary degree.
"A desperate, dark night," he said suddenly. He was merely voicing his thought aloud.
The sound of his voice roused the other from his reverie. The Padre lifted his head and removed the pipe from between his teeth.
"Yes--and hot. Throw us your tobacco."
Buck pitched his pouch across, but remained where he was.
"Guess that leddy's down at the farm by now," Buck went on. "Joan was guessing she'd get around to-day. That's why I didn't go along there."
"Yes, she is there." The Padre lit his pipe and smoked steadily.
Buck turned quickly.
"How d'you know?"
"I met her on the trail. They missed their way this morning and hit the trail below here, at the foot of the steps."
"You didn't--let her see you?" Buck asked, after a pause.
The Padre smiled.
"I spoke to her. I put her on the right trail."
"You spoke to her?" Buck's tone was half incredulous. "Did she--recognize you?"