Meanwhile Lyon Berners was explaining to Robert Munson that they had
found a friend and helper in Farmer Nye; but advising Munson to try to
infuse enough of discretion into the impetuous mind of Nye to modify his
reckless actions.
"And now, dear boy," added Mr. Berners, "I will not speak to you of
reward for this great service; but this I will say, that henceforth
you shall be to me as a younger brother, and I shall take charge of your
future fortunes even as though you were the son of my mother."
"You are too generous, sir; and indeed I want no recompense whatever,"
answered Robert Munson, sincerely.
Then Mr. Berners went over to his wife and lifted her into her saddle;
and when he had settled her comfortably in her seat, he mounted his own
horse, and once more called Robert Munson to him.
"Good-bye, and God bless you, Robert," he said, warmly shaking hands
with the young man.
"And you too, sir! and you too, sir!" feelingly responded Munson.
And then Sybil called him.
"Good-bye, dear Bob. I will remember you and love you as long as I live
for this," she said.
"And so will I you, ma'am," he answered, and turned away to hide his
tears.
Lastly Lyon Berners rode up to where Farmer Nye stood apart.
"Farewell, Farmer Nye! And may you indeed fare as well as your great
heart deserves all your life," said Lyon.
"The same to you and your dear wife, sir, with all my soul in the
prayer!" responded the farmer.
"And here, Mr. Nye, is a testimonial--I mean a memorandum--that is to
say, something I wish you to take for my sake."
"A keepsake, sir?"
"If you choose to consider it so, yes."
"What might it be sir?" inquired the farmer, receiving from Mr. Berners
the small envelope containing the large note.
"It might be a lock of my wife's hair, or it might be my miniature;
but whatever it is, hold it tight, and do not look at it until you get
back to the house."
"All right, sir; but you have raised my curiosity," replied the farmer,
as he carefully deposited his unsuspected little fortune into the pocket
of his waistcoat.
"Now direct me as to how I shall find the best and most private road
westward," said Lyon, gathering the reins in his hands.
"You are facing east now. Ride straight on for about a hundred yards,
till you come to the cross-roads, then take the road to your left, and
follow it for about an eighth of a mile until you come to another road
still on your left; take that and follow it as far as you please, for it
leads straight west."