Of all the people in New Salem who were surprised at the sudden and mysterious leave-taking of the lover of Ann Rutledge, no one was so mystified and troubled as Ann herself. Especially was she perplexed and troubled about a promise he had exacted from her the last night they were together. "Ann," he said, "you've promised to marry me--haven't you?" Ann looked at him questioningly. "Of course--why do you ask such a question?" "Will you wait for me if I should go away for a time?" "Surely you believe I will." "Yes, you'll wait unless Abe Lincoln gets you while I'm away." "Abe Lincoln," she repeated. "What makes you say that?" "Abe Lincoln has not been keeping company with any of the girls, and it's not their fault. No more is it natural for a young fellow as full of life as Abe Lincoln is not to like the girls--except when they like _one_. I'm not blind. There's no other girl in New Salem like you; maybe no other one good enough for Abe Lincoln. He'll want something extra on account of his book-learning. Abe's a good fellow, but he's lazy as a dog, always lying around when he ought to be laying by some dollars." "But he is studying and reading when he is lying around. When anybody's mind is at work they're not lazy." "You always take up for Abe Lincoln I notice--ever since the day his ark got stuck on the dam. I suppose it's because he was born under a lucky star." "What's lucky about Abraham Lincoln?" "Everything. The way he got to bring the steamboat down the river; the way he got to be captain in the Black Hawk war. And now they says he is certain to go to the Legislature." "But it's not luck. It's because he can do things. 'I will prepare myself,' he often says, 'and when my chance comes I will be ready.'" "Yes, that's what he says, and that's exactly the reason he'll get you while I'm away." "But I have promised you, John." "Out of sight out of mind," he answered. "Do you think I would forget a solemn promise?" There was surprise and something of resentment in her tone. "Not exactly that, though Abe Lincoln could talk black into white if he took a notion. But a fellow don't care to have a girl stick to him just on account of a sacred promise." "What makes you talk so strangely?" she asked. "And tell me, where are you going? You haven't told me this yet." "I'm going back where I came from--back where I left my people when I came out here." "That was in New York somewhere." "Yes, in New York somewhere. I expect to come back and bring them." "When are you going?" "To-morrow." "To-morrow! So soon?" she exclaimed in surprise and pain. "Will you be gone long?" "Maybe--I don't know how long. But before I go I've a secret to tell you." "Something you have never told me?" "Something I have never told anybody. Something you must not tell." "Not even my mother? I tell her everything." "Not even your mother, nor father." "What is it, John?" and Ann's face was troubled as she asked the question.