‚ÄúZora,‚Äù he said, ‚ÄúI want you to do all this‚ÅÝ‚Äîfor me.‚Äù
“I will, if you wants me to,” she said quietly, but with something in her voice that made him look half startled into her beautiful eyes and feel a queer flushing in his face. He stretched his hand out and taking hers held it lightly till she quivered and drew away, bending again over her sewing.
Then a nameless exaltation rose within his heart.
“Zora,” he whispered, “I’ve got a plan.”
“What is it?” she asked, still with bowed head.
“Listen, till I tell you of the Golden Fleece.”
Then she too heard the story of Jason. Breathless she listened, dropping her sewing and leaning forward, eager-eyed. Then her face clouded.
“Do you s’pose mammy’s the witch?” she asked dubiously.
“No; she wouldn’t give her own flesh and blood to help the thieving Jason.”
She looked at him searchingly.
“Yes, she would, too,” affirmed the girl, and then she paused, still intently watching him. She was troubled, and again a question eagerly hovered on her lips. But he continued:
“Then we must escape her,” he said gayly. “See! yonder lies the Silver Fleece spread across the brown back of the world; let’s get a bit of it, and hide it here in the swamp, and comb it, and tend it, and make it the beautifullest bit of all. Then we can sell it, and send you to school.”
She sat silently bent forward, turning the picture in her mind.