Oh, its you, said a voice in the woods behind her.
She shrieked, and Roger jerked in reflex, spun on his heel to face the threat, grabbed her and thrust her behind him, all in the same motion.
The push sent her staggering backward. She caught a heel in a hidden root in the dark, and fell, landing hard on her backside, from which position she had an excellent view of Roger in the moonlight, knife in hand, charging into the trees with an incoherent roar.
Belatedly, she registered what the voice had said, as well as the unmistakable tone of disappointment in it. A very similar voice, loud with alarm, spoke from the wood on the right.
Jo? it said. What? Jo, what?
There was a lot of thrashing and yelling going on in the woods to the left. Rogerd got his hands on someone.
Roger! she shouted. Roger, stop! Its the Beardsleys!
Shed dropped the rock when she fell, and now got to her feet, rubbing the dirt from her hand on the side of her skirt. Her heart was still pounding, her left buttock was bruised, and her urge to laugh was tinged with a strong desire to strangle one or both of the Beardsley twins.
Kezzie Beardsley, come out of there! she bellowed, then repeated it, even louder. Kezzies hearing had improved after her mother had removed his chronically infected tonsils and adenoids, but he was still rather deaf.
A loud rustling in the brush yielded the slight form of Keziah Beardsley, dark-haired, white-faced, and armed with a large club, which he swung off his shoulder and tried abashedly to hide behind him when he saw her.
Meanwhile, much louder rustling and a certain amount of cursing behind her portended the emergence of Roger, gripping the scrawny neck of Josiah Beardsley, Kezzies twin.
What in the name of God dye wee bastards think yere up to? Roger said, shoving Jo across to stand by his brother in a patch of moonlight. Dye realize I nearly killed you?
There was just enough light for Brianna to make out the rather cynical expression that crossed Jos face at this, before it was erased and replaced with one of earnest apology.
Were that sorry, Mr. Mac. We heard someone coming, and thought it might be brigands.
Brigands, Brianna repeated, feeling the urge to laugh rising, but keeping it firmly in check. Where on earth did you get that word?
Oh. Jo looked at his feet, hands clasped behind his back. Miss Lizzie was a-readin to us, from that book what Mr. Jamie brought. Twas in there. About brigands.
I see. She glanced at Roger, who met her eye, his annoyance obviously waning into amusement, as well. The Pirate Gow, she explained. Defoe.
Oh, aye. Roger sheathed his dirk. And why, exactly, did ye think there might be brigands coming?
Kezzie, with the quirks of his erratic hearing, picked that up and answered, as earnestly as his brother, though his voice was louder and slightly flat, the result of his early deafness.
We come across Mr. Lindsay, sir, on his way home, and he did tell us what passed, up by Dutchmans Creek. Its true, so, what he said? They was all burned to cinders?
They were all dead. Rogers voice had lost any tinge of amusement. Whats that to do with you lot lurking in
the woods with clubs?
Well, you see, sir, McGillivrays is a fine, big place, what with the coopers shop and the new house and all, and being on a road, likewell, if I was a brigand, sir, tis just the sort of place I might choose, replied Jo.
And Miss Lizzies there, with her Pap. And your son, Mr. Mac, Kezzie added pointedly. Shouldnt want no harm to come to em.
I see. Roger smiled a little crookedly. Well, thanks to ye, then, for the kind thought. I doubt the brigands will be anywhere near, though; Dutchmans Creek is a long way away.
Aye, sir, Jo agreed. But brigands might be anywhere, mightnt they?
This was undeniable, and sufficiently true as to give Brianna a renewed feeling of chill in the pit of the stomach.
They might be, but they arent, Roger assured them. Come along to the house with us, aye? Were just going to collect wee Jem. Im sure Frau Ute would give ye a bed by the fire.
The Beardsleys exchanged inscrutable looks. They were nearly identicalsmall and lithe, with thick dark hair, distinguished only by Kezzies deafness and the round scar on Jos thumband to see the two fine-boned faces wearing precisely the same expression was a little unnerving.
Whatever information had been exchanged by that look, it had evidently included as much consultation as was required, for Kezzie nodded slightly, deferring to his brother.
Ah, no, sir, Josiah said politely. Well bide, I think. And with no further talk, the two of them turned and crunched off into the dark, scuffling leaves and rocks as they went.
Jo! Wait! Brianna called after them, her hand having found something else in the bottom of her pocket.
Aye, maam? Josiah was back, appearing by her elbow with unsettling abruptness. His twin was no stalker, but Jo was.
Oh! I mean, oh, there you are. She took a deep breath to slow her heart, and handed him the carved whistle shed made for Germain. Here. If youre going to stand guard, this might be helpful. To call for help, if someone should come.