Into the Wilderness
Page 55
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
"Miz Elizabeth!" he greeted her solemnly with a deep bow of his head, and then broke into a grin.
"Where have you been keeping yourself?" Elizabeth asked. "I haven't seen you at all since we arrived."
"Errands to attend to for the judge," Galileo explained, holding out his packages as evidence of his industry. "The judge don't care for town, you see."
"Something I have in common with my father, then," Elizabeth noted dryly.
Galileo considered Elizabeth with one eye squeezed shut, the wiry salt—and—pepper twists of his eyebrows meeting in a tumble over the sharp blade of his nose. "Are you ready to head on home?" he asked. "I can have the horses ready first thing in the morning, just you say the word."
"That would be very good," Elizabeth said with a smile. "But do let me check with Miss Witherspoon, and with my brother."
"Huh!" Galileo's frown spread across his face and then disappeared as quickly as it came.
"I don't think Mr. Julian ready to go just yet."
Elizabeth considered Galileo, wondering how much information he was willing to volunteer about Julian's whereabouts and his activities in the last two days. But it was getting late, and she cast a worried look toward Mr. Bennett's offices.
"I have an errand," she said. "But I would like to talk to you about the trip home, later." She took her leave from Galileo and had turned away when across the road a weathered gray door flew open with a bang. From the dark interior a terrific bellowing erupted, followed by the form of a slight man dressed in ragged homespun who fairly flew through the air to land in a hump in the road.
"Come, Elizabeth," Galileo said briskly, taking her arm and trying to turn her away.
"But that man—" She pulled herself clear and looked more closely. Nothing had changed at all: people continued to make their way, ignoring the spectacle of a man lying in the road. The door he had come through was now shut. With an audible groan, the man raised his head from the snow and muck. He rose unsteadily to his feet and lurched off. His dark tangled hair covered most of his face, but not enough to disguise the copper gleam of his skin, the sharp bones, the sunken expression.
"Been drinkin', hard," said Galileo beside her. "Nothing you can do for him."
Reluctantly, Elizabeth turned away. Then she stopped and considered. "Who could?" she asked. "Who could do something for him?"
Galileo shrugged, his own dark face suddenly closed and protective. "God knows," he said.
* * *
Elizabeth's first urge was to go and tell Mr. Bennett about the Indian, but she knew she must be careful to restrict herself to topics which would not arouse his suspicion. It would not do to complicate the situation, she told herself standing on the doorstep of his offices, trying to put the image of the man in the road out of her mind.
"What's the matter, Miz Elizabeth?" Galileo asked. He had insisted on walking her to her destination, and now waited on the curb. "Why you coming to see the magistrate?"
"There's nothing the matter," she said, trying to affect a calmer demeanor. But I am worried about that man," she admitted. "I know what you told me," she said, before Galileo could list for her the reasons she should put the incident out of her head. "And I expect that you're right. He wouldn't welcome my interference in his affairs, either. I know that too without being told. Here," she said, reaching into her purse. "Perhaps he won't mind if it comes from you. Can you find him and make sure he has a warm dinner, today at least?"
"He'll drink it," Galileo said with a resigned look.
"Well, then, buy some cooked meat and give him that," Elizabeth said.
Galileo nodded. "All right," he said finally. "Can you find your way back to the Bennetts'?"
But Elizabeth had already turned away. She fluttered a hand behind her in farewell to Galileo, composed her face, and entered the offices of John Bennett, attorney at law and magistrate for the northern counties in the state of New—York.
* * *
Mr. Bennett appeared to greet Elizabeth as soon as the door closed behind her. His clerk had relieved her of her coat and hat and she found herself with a cup of tea in a comfortable chair in Mr. Bennett's main office less than five minutes later.
"It's not often we get such company," he explained over her protests. "We must observe the amenities, or we may never see the like again."
When Elizabeth had seen and admired the fittings in the office, and had described for Mr. Bennett the morning's expedition to the shops and the hat his wife had bought, there was a moment's silence.
"Mr. Bennett," Elizabeth began. "Please do not think me disingenuous, but I do have a question of the law for you. I hope you will forgive me for not being more open with you earlier today, but it is quite a sensitive matter."
There was a slight flicker of interest in the pallid blue eyes, and then Mr. Bennett's face settled into a studied composure. He folded his hands on his desk in front of him. "I did suspect as much," he said. "And of course I am at your service."
Elizabeth glanced out the window into the road where the citizens of Johnstown moved about on their business. It could be a town almost anywhere, she thought. Midwinter snow trod into a gray muck, icy cobblestones, and spring so far off. With a shake of her head she focused her attention on the man before her.
"Where have you been keeping yourself?" Elizabeth asked. "I haven't seen you at all since we arrived."
"Errands to attend to for the judge," Galileo explained, holding out his packages as evidence of his industry. "The judge don't care for town, you see."
"Something I have in common with my father, then," Elizabeth noted dryly.
Galileo considered Elizabeth with one eye squeezed shut, the wiry salt—and—pepper twists of his eyebrows meeting in a tumble over the sharp blade of his nose. "Are you ready to head on home?" he asked. "I can have the horses ready first thing in the morning, just you say the word."
"That would be very good," Elizabeth said with a smile. "But do let me check with Miss Witherspoon, and with my brother."
"Huh!" Galileo's frown spread across his face and then disappeared as quickly as it came.
"I don't think Mr. Julian ready to go just yet."
Elizabeth considered Galileo, wondering how much information he was willing to volunteer about Julian's whereabouts and his activities in the last two days. But it was getting late, and she cast a worried look toward Mr. Bennett's offices.
"I have an errand," she said. "But I would like to talk to you about the trip home, later." She took her leave from Galileo and had turned away when across the road a weathered gray door flew open with a bang. From the dark interior a terrific bellowing erupted, followed by the form of a slight man dressed in ragged homespun who fairly flew through the air to land in a hump in the road.
"Come, Elizabeth," Galileo said briskly, taking her arm and trying to turn her away.
"But that man—" She pulled herself clear and looked more closely. Nothing had changed at all: people continued to make their way, ignoring the spectacle of a man lying in the road. The door he had come through was now shut. With an audible groan, the man raised his head from the snow and muck. He rose unsteadily to his feet and lurched off. His dark tangled hair covered most of his face, but not enough to disguise the copper gleam of his skin, the sharp bones, the sunken expression.
"Been drinkin', hard," said Galileo beside her. "Nothing you can do for him."
Reluctantly, Elizabeth turned away. Then she stopped and considered. "Who could?" she asked. "Who could do something for him?"
Galileo shrugged, his own dark face suddenly closed and protective. "God knows," he said.
* * *
Elizabeth's first urge was to go and tell Mr. Bennett about the Indian, but she knew she must be careful to restrict herself to topics which would not arouse his suspicion. It would not do to complicate the situation, she told herself standing on the doorstep of his offices, trying to put the image of the man in the road out of her mind.
"What's the matter, Miz Elizabeth?" Galileo asked. He had insisted on walking her to her destination, and now waited on the curb. "Why you coming to see the magistrate?"
"There's nothing the matter," she said, trying to affect a calmer demeanor. But I am worried about that man," she admitted. "I know what you told me," she said, before Galileo could list for her the reasons she should put the incident out of her head. "And I expect that you're right. He wouldn't welcome my interference in his affairs, either. I know that too without being told. Here," she said, reaching into her purse. "Perhaps he won't mind if it comes from you. Can you find him and make sure he has a warm dinner, today at least?"
"He'll drink it," Galileo said with a resigned look.
"Well, then, buy some cooked meat and give him that," Elizabeth said.
Galileo nodded. "All right," he said finally. "Can you find your way back to the Bennetts'?"
But Elizabeth had already turned away. She fluttered a hand behind her in farewell to Galileo, composed her face, and entered the offices of John Bennett, attorney at law and magistrate for the northern counties in the state of New—York.
* * *
Mr. Bennett appeared to greet Elizabeth as soon as the door closed behind her. His clerk had relieved her of her coat and hat and she found herself with a cup of tea in a comfortable chair in Mr. Bennett's main office less than five minutes later.
"It's not often we get such company," he explained over her protests. "We must observe the amenities, or we may never see the like again."
When Elizabeth had seen and admired the fittings in the office, and had described for Mr. Bennett the morning's expedition to the shops and the hat his wife had bought, there was a moment's silence.
"Mr. Bennett," Elizabeth began. "Please do not think me disingenuous, but I do have a question of the law for you. I hope you will forgive me for not being more open with you earlier today, but it is quite a sensitive matter."
There was a slight flicker of interest in the pallid blue eyes, and then Mr. Bennett's face settled into a studied composure. He folded his hands on his desk in front of him. "I did suspect as much," he said. "And of course I am at your service."
Elizabeth glanced out the window into the road where the citizens of Johnstown moved about on their business. It could be a town almost anywhere, she thought. Midwinter snow trod into a gray muck, icy cobblestones, and spring so far off. With a shake of her head she focused her attention on the man before her.
