ey
were mighty civil, though we had only two negroes to help us, and Suan
Isco, with a great gun cocked. But their curiosity was such that they
could not help asking about the gold; and, sooner than shoot them, Uncle
Sam replied that, upon his honor, the nugget was gone. And the fame of
his word was so well known that these fellows (none of whom could tell
the truth, even at confession) believed him on the spot, and begged his
pardon for trespassing on his premises. They hoped that he would not say
a word to the Vigilance Committee, who hanged a poor fellow for losing
his road; and he told them that if they made off at once, nobody should
pursue them; and so they rode off very happily.

CHAPTER XVI

FIRM AND INFIRM

Strange as it may appear, our quiet little home was not yet disturbed by
that great discovery of gold. The Sawyer went up to the summit of esteem
in public opinion; but to himself and to us he was the same as ever. He
worked with his own hard hands and busy head just as he used to do; for
although the mill was still in ruins, there was plenty of the finer work
to do, which always required hand-labor. And at night he would sit at
the end of the table furthest from the fire-place, with his spectacles
on, and his red cheeks glowing, while he designed the future mill, which
was to be built in the spring, and transcend every mill ever heard,
thought, or dreamed of.

We all looked forward to a quiet winter, snug with warmth and cheer
in-doors, and bright outside with sparkling trees, brisk air, and frosty
appetite, when a foolish idea arose which spoiled the comfort at least
of two of us. Ephraim Gundry found out, or fancied, that he was entirely
filled with love of a very young maid, who never dreamed of such things,
and hated even to hear of them; and the maid, unluckily, was myself.

During the time of his ailment I had been with him continually, being
only too glad to assuage his pain, or turn his thoughts away from it.
I partly suspected that he had incurred his bitter wound for my sake;
though I never imputed his zeal to more than a young man's natural wrath
at an outrage. But now he left me no longer in doubt, and made me
most uncomfortable. Perhaps I was hard upon him, and afterward I often
thought so, for he was very kind and gentle; but I was an orphan child,
and had no one to advise me in such matters. I believe that he should
have considered this, and allowed me to grow a little older; but p