"In the old place--the Ravine. He was sitting on the stile at the top of the zigzag, as cool as might be." "Did you speak to him? I should, if I came across the man; and ask what his business might be in these parts." "I didn't speak to him," returned Hannah. "I'd rather not. There's no knowing the answer one might get, Thomas, or what he's looking after. He spoke to the children." "What did he say to them?" "Asked if they'd go away with him to some beautiful coral islands over the sea, and catch pretty birds, and parrots, and monkeys. He called them by their names, too--'Hugh' and 'Lena.' I should like to know how he got hold of _them_." "I can't help thinking that he belongs to them engineering folk who come spying for no good on people's land: the Squire won't like it if they cut a railroad through here," said Thomas; and the supposition did not appear to please Hannah. "Why you must be as silly as a turkey, old Thomas! Engineers have no need to hide themselves as if they were afraid of being took up for murder. He has about as much the cut of an engineer as you have, and no more: they don't go about looking like Methodist parsons run to seed. _My_ opinion is that he's something of that sort." "A Methodist parson!" "No; not anything half so respectable. If I spoke out my thoughts, though, I dare say you'd laugh at me." "Not I," said Thomas. "Make haste. I forgot to put the claret jug on the table." "Then I've got it in my head that he is one of them seducing Mormons. They appear in neighbourhoods without the smallest warning, lie partly concealed by day, and go abroad at night, persuading all the likely women and girls to join their sect. My sister told me about it in a letter she wrote me only three days ago. There has been a Mormon down there; he called himself a saint, she says; and when he went finally away he took fifteen young women with him. Fifteen, Thomas! and after only three weeks' persuasion! It's as true as that you've got that damask cloth in your hand." Nothing further was heard for a minute. Then Thomas spoke. "Has the man here been seen talking with young women?" "Who is to know? They take care _not_ to be seen; that's their craft. And so you see, Thomas, I'd rather steer clear of the man, and not give him the opportunity of trying his arts on me. I can tell him it's not Hannah Baber that would be cajoled off to a barbarous desert by a man who had fifteen other wives beside! Lord help the women for geese! Miss Lena" (raising her voice), "don't you tear about after the fawn like that; you'll put yourself into a pretty heat." "I'd look him up when I came home, if I were the Squire," said Thomas, who evidently took it all gravely in. "We don't want a Mormon on the place."