I was not jealous; on the contrary, I longed to see this youth, and find
in him such a brother as I had often wished to have. But let me return
to my father's story.

The young man, after examining the permit, declared it to be in form, and
returned it to my father, but he eyed him with polite disfavour.

"I suppose," he said, "you have come up, as so many are doing, from
Bridgeford and all over the country, to the dedication on Sunday."

"Yes," said my father. "Bless me!" he added, "what a wind you have up
here! How it makes one's eyes water, to be sure;" but he spoke with a
cluck in his throat which no wind that blows can cause.

"Have you met any suspicious characters between here and the statues?"
asked the youth. "I came across the ashes of a fire lower down; there
had been three men sitting for some time round it, and they had all been
eating quails. Here are some of the bones and feathers, which I shall
keep. They had not been gone more than a couple of hours, for the ashes
were still warm; they are getting bolder and bolder--who would have
thought they would dare to light a fire? I suppose you have not met any
one; but if you have seen a single person, let me know."

My father said quite truly that he had met no one. He then laughingly
asked how the youth had been able to discover as much as he had.

"There were three well-marked forms, and three separate lots of quail
bones hidden in the ashes. One man had done all the plucking. This is
strange, but I dare say I shall get at it later."