It was Silas Grangerson. Returning to Grangerson's to make plans for the capture of Phyl, here she was on the road before him and going in the same direction. For a moment he could scarcely believe his eyes. Then reining in and leaving the horses with the groom he jumped down and ran towards her. After the affair of last night one might fancy that he would have shown something of it in his manner. Not a bit. "I didn't expect to come across _you_ on the road," said he. "Won't you speak to me--are you angry with me?" "It's not a question of being angry," said Phyl, stiffly. She walked on and he walked beside her, silent for a moment. "If you mean about that affair last night," said he, "I'm sorry I lost my temper--but he hit me--you don't understand what that means to me." "You tried to--" "Kill him, I did, and only for you I'd have done it. You can't understand it all. I can scarcely understand it myself. He _hit_ me." "I don't think you knew what you were doing," said Phyl. "I most surely did not. I was rousted out of myself. I reckon he didn't know what he was doing either when he struck. He ought to have known I was not the person to hit. I'll show you, just stand before me for a moment." Phyl faced him. He pretended to strike at her and she started back. "There you are," said he; "you know I wasn't going to touch you but you had to dodge. Your mind had nothing to do with it, just your instinct. That was how I was. When he landed his blow I went for my knife by instinct. If you tread on a snake he lets out at you just the same way. He doesn't think. He's wound up by nature to hit back." "But you are not a snake." "How do you know what's in a man? I reckon we've all been animals once, maybe I was a snake. There are worse things than snakes. Snakes are all right, they don't meddle with you if you don't meddle with them. They've got a bad name they don't deserve. I like them. They're a lot better citizens, the way they look after their wives and families, than some others and they know how to hit back prompt--say, where are you going to?" "I don't know," said Phyl. "I just came for a walk--I'm leaving Charleston." She spoke with a little catch in her voice. All Silas's misdoings were forgotten for the moment, the fact that the man was dangerous as Death to himself and others had been neutralised in her mind by the fact, intuitively recognised, that there was nothing small or mean in his character. Despite his conduct in the cemetery, despite his lunatic outburst of the night before, in her heart of hearts she liked him; besides that, he was part of Charleston, part of the place she loved.