CHAPTER XVII.
THE GROOM IN GREY.
"Heroes and kings, in exile forced to roam,
Leave swelling phrase and seven-leagued words at home."
SCOTT.
Another summer and winter had gone by and harvest time had come
again, when Steadfast with little Ben, now seven years old, for
company, took two sacks of corn to be ground at the mill, where the
skirmish had been fought in which Emlyn's father had been killed.
The sacks were laid across a packsaddle on a stout white horse, with
which, by diligent saving, Steadfast had contrived to replace
Whitefoot, Ben was promised a ride home when the sacks should have
been emptied, and trotted along in company with Growler by his
brother's side, talking more in an hour than Stead did in a week, and
looking with great interest to be shown the hawthorn bush where Emlyn
had been found. For Stead and Ben were alike in feeling the bright,
merry, capricious, laughing, teasing Emlyn the charm and delight of
home. In trouble, or for real aid, they went to Patience, but who
was like Emlyn for drollery and diversion? Who ever made Stead laugh
as she could, or who so played with Ben, and never, like Rusha, tried
to be maidenly, discreet, nay, dull?
It was very inconvenient that just as they reached the famous thorn
bush, the white horse began to demonstrate that his shoe was loose.
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