Stafford apparently did not hear her, for, exerting all his strength,
he lifted the big stone and gradually slid and hoisted it into its
place. Then he attacked the other two, and with a still greater effort
raised them into a line with their fellows.
Ida watched him as--well, as one watches some "strong man" going
through his performance.
It was a well-nigh incredible feat, and she held her breath as one
stone followed the other. It seemed to her incredible and impossible,
because Stafford's figure was slight and graceful, and he performed the
feat with the apparent ease which he had learnt in the 'varsity
athletic sports.
The colour rose to her face and her heart beat quickly. There is one
thing left for women to worship; and they worship it readily--and that
is strength. Stafford could not count sheep--any woman could do
that--but he could do what no woman could do: lift those great stones
into their places.
So that, as he waded out of the river, she smiled _on_ him instead of
_at_ him--which is a very different thing--as she said: "How strong you must be! I should have thought it would have required
two or three men to lift those stones."
"Oh, it's easy enough, as easy as--counting sheep when you know how."
She laughed.
"But you must be very wet," she said, glancing at the water as it
dripped from his clothes.
"Oh, it's all in the day's work," he said, cheerfully, more than
cheerfully, happily. "Now for the steers."
"They're in the dale," she said; and she looked at him as she spoke
with a new interest, with the interest a woman feels in the presence of
her master, of the man who can move mountains.
He shook the water from him and rode at her side more cheerfully than
he had done hitherto, for he had, so to speak, proved his helpfulness.
He might be an idiot, but he could lift weir stones into their place.
"There they are," she said. "And, oh, dear! One of them has got loose.
There ought to be fourteen and there are only thirteen!"
"Good heavens! You must have eyes like a hawk's"
She laughed. "Oh, no; I'm used to it, that is all. Now, where can it
be? I thought all the fences were mended. I must find it!"
"Stop!" he said. "At any rate, I can find a cow--bullock--steer. Let me
go. You wait here."
He rode off as he spoke, and she pulled up the big chestnut and looked
after him. Once more the question rose to perplex her: why had he come,
why was he riding about the dale with her, counting sheep, wading in
the stream, lifting weir stones, and herding cattle? It seemed to be so
strange, so inexplicable. And as she followed him with her eyes, his
grace and strength were impressed upon her, and she dwelt upon them
dreamily. Were there many such men in the world of which she knew so
little, or was he one alone, and unique? And how good, how pleasant it
was to have him with her, to talk to her, to help her! She had often
longed for a brother, and had pictured one like this, strong and
handsome, with frank eyes and smiling lips--someone upon whom she could
lean, to whom she could go when she was in trouble.