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"Whisky," he answered solemnly, "two great jugs full avut, Billy Bye." Anson got out of bed, his white legs gleaming in the yellow lamp-light as he tiptoed softly across to Billy's cot and lay down. CHAPTER XVIII THE METTLE OF THE BREED.
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"What's a reward?" "I wish, madam," he said, "I could see you seated more comfortably. But I wish more that you could see into my heart, what I feel there, and how my pain is infinitely keener than yours, because my love for you, my inexorable passion for you, my determination to win you and make you my own for life, paralysing the efforts of those who would keep us asunder, make the very soul within me shrink to behold you so uneasy, so unhappy, so reluctant to cast upon me one look—even one look—to persuade me that my stratagem was based upon my conviction that I am not[Pg 319] indifferent to you, nay, that deep in your spirit your love for me dwells as a jewel in a casket that yourself dare not open, though willing that I should." Wilson picked up his pails and carried them to the fence. Seeing Billy emerge from the house he placed them on the top step of the stile and waited. "You have not lost it, Mr Greyquill.".
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