d my banns."

The elder man cocked his head on one side, much as a thrush contemplates
a worm.

"I smell a wise wit, somewhere. Young man, who taught you so capital a
notion?"

"Ruby did."

"Pack o' stuff! Ruby hadn't the--stop a minute! 'twas that clever
fellow you fetched ashore, on Monday. Of course--of course! How came
it to slip my mind?"

Young Zeb turned away; but the old man was after him, quick as thought,
and had laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Is it bitter, my son?"

"It is bitter as death, Pa'son."

"My poor lad. Step in an' break your fast with me--poor lad, poor lad!
Nay, but you shall. There's a bitch pup i' the stables that I want your
judgment on. Bitter, eh? I dessay. I dessay. I'm thinking of walking
her--lemon spot on the left ear--Rattler strain, of course. Dear me,
this makes six generations I can count back that spot--an' game every
one. Step in, poor lad, step in: she's a picture."

CHAPTER VI.

SIEGE IS LAID TO RUBY.

The sun was higher by some hours--high enough to be streaming brightly
over the wall into the courtlage at Sheba--when Ruby awoke from a
dreamless sleep. As she lifted her head from the pillow and felt the
fatigue of last night yet in her limbs, she was aware also of a rich
tenor voice uplifted beneath her window. Air and words were strange to
her, and the voice had little in common with the world as she knew it.
Its exile on that coast was almost pathetic, and it dwelt on the notes
with a feeling of a warmer land.

"O south be north--
O sun be shady--
Until my lady
Shall issue forth:
Till her own mouth
Bid sun uncertain
To draw his curtain,
Bid south be south."

She stole out of bed and went on tiptoe to the window, where she drew
the blind an inch aside. The stranger's footstep had ceased to crunch
the gravel, and he stood now just beneath her, before the monthly-rose
bush. Throughout the winter a blossom or two lingered in that sheltered
corner; and he had drawn the nearest down to smell at it.

"O heart, her rose,
I cannot ease thee
Till she release thee
And bid unclose.
So, till day come
And she be risen,
Rest, rose, in prison
And heart be dumb!"

He snapped the stem and passed on, whistling the air of his ditty, and
twirling the rose between finger and thumb.

"Men are all ninnies," Ruby decided as she dropped the blind; "and I
thank the fates that framed me fema