Clemens was the best kind of a host; his evenings after dinnerwere an unending flow of stories. One of them got up sufficient nerve to grip Emerson's left arm. We had two rifles, wrapped in oiled cloth, and extra ammunition. With Katherine's assistance I managed to keep the conversation general throughout dinner.
He followed the child wherever she went, even into the dangerous proximity of the twins. When we reached the house it was buzzing like a beehive and shining like a Christmas tree, every lamp alight and-as it appeared-a goodly portion of the population of Gurneh mounting guard. At least I assume it was he; he appeared as wary as a timid animal, so I pretended I hadn't seen him. I have a few forebodings of my own.
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