He did, however, know of
that moment when her passionate heart broke over him in tenderness; and
she tried to make him think, by things said since, that it was only pity
for his sufferings which made her do it.
Ingolby thought of all these things, but in a spirit of understanding, as
he went to his tryst with her at sunset on the day when Lebanon and
Manitou were reconciled.
.........................
He met her walking among the trees, very near the place where they had
had their first long talk, months before, when Jethro Fawe was a prisoner
in the Hut in the Woods. Then it was warm, singing Summer; now, beneath
the feet the red and brown leaves rustled, the trees were stretching up
gaunt arms to the Winter, the woods were no longer vocal, and the singing
birds had fled, though here and there a black squirrel, not yet gone to
Winter quarters, was busy and increasing his stores. A hedgehog scuttled
across his path. He smiled as he remembered telling Fleda that once, when
he was a little boy, he had eaten hedgehog, and she had asked him if he
remembered the Gipsy name for hedgehog--hotchewitchi was the word. Now,
as the shapeless creature made for its hole, it was significant of the
history of his life during the past Summer.
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