Michael Penguyne | Page 9

father said anything to you about it?"
"Yes. He said that I was not your brother; and he has told me all about my father and mother: how my father was drowned, and my mother died of a broken heart. I could well-nigh have cried when I heard the tale."
Nelly looked up into Michael's face.
"It's no news to me," she said. "Granny told me of it some time ago, but I begged her not to let you find it out lest it should make you unhappy, and you should fancy we were not going to love you as much as we have always done. But, Michael, don't go and fancy that; though you are not my brother, I will love you as much as ever, as long as you live: for, except father and granny, I have no friend but you in the world."
"I will be your brother and your true friend as long as I live, Nelly," responded Michael; "still I would rather have thought myself to be your brother, that I might have a better right to work for you, and fight for you too, if needs be."
"You will do that, I know, Michael," said Nelly, "whatever may happen."
Michael felt that he should be everything that was bad if he did not, though it did not occur to him to make any great promises of what he would do.
They went on talking cheerfully and happily together, for though Nelly was anxious about her father, she did not yet understand how ill he was.
They procured the articles for which they had been sent, and, laden with them, returned homewards. They were making their way along one of the hedges which divide the fields in that part of Cornwall--not composed of brambles but of solid rock, and so broad that two people can walk abreast without fear of tumbling off--and were yet some distance from the edge of the ravine down which they had to go to their home, when they saw Eban Cowan coming towards them.
"I wish he had gone some other way," said Nelly. "He is very kind bringing me shells and other things, but, Michael, I do not like him. I do not know what it is, but there is something in the tone of his voice; it's not truthful like yours and father's."
"I never thought about that. He is a bold-hearted, good-natured fellow," observed Michael. "He has always been inclined to like us, and shown a wish to be friendly."
"I don't want to make him suppose that we are not friendly," said Nelly; "only still--"
She was unable to finish the sentence, as the subject of their conversation had got close up to them.
"Good-day, Nelly; good-day, Michael," he said, putting out his hand. "You have got heavy loads; let me carry yours, Nelly."
She, however, declined his assistance.
"It is lighter than you suppose, and I can carry it well," she answered.
He looked somewhat angry and then walked on, Michael having to give way to let him pass. Instead, however, of doing so, he turned round suddenly and kept alongside Nelly, compelling Michael in consequence to walk behind them.
"I went to ask after your father, Nelly," he said, "and, hearing that you were away, came on to meet you. I am sorry to find he is no better."
"Thank you," said Nelly; "father is very ill, I fear; but God is merciful, and will take care of him and make him well if He thinks fit."
Eban made no reply to this remark. He was not accustomed in his family to hear God spoken of except when that holy name was profaned by being joined to a curse.
"You had better let me take your creel, Nelly; it will be nothing to me."
"It is nothing to me either," answered Nelly, laughing. "I undertook to bring home the things, and I do not wish anybody else to do my work."
Still Eban persisted in his offers; she as constantly refusing, till they reached the top of the pathway.
"There," she said, "I have only to go down hill now, so you need not be afraid the load will break my back. Good-bye, Eban, you will be wanted at home I dare say."
Eban looked disconcerted; he appeared to have intended to accompany her down the hill, but he had sense enough to see that she did not wish him to do so. He stopped short, therefore.
"Good-bye, Eban," said Michael, as he passed him; "Nelly and I must get home as fast as we can to help granny nurse father."
"That's the work you are most fitted for," muttered Eban, as Michael went on. "If it was not for Nelly I should soon quarrel with that fellow. He is always talking about his duty, and fearing God, and such like things. If he had more spirit he would not