Near the end of the eucalyptus¹ avenue, and close to the gate, David dismounted and made Jacob do likewise.  
"We may come on them by surprise and listen," he said. "A soft step has won great causes."
 
They went forward cautiously, interchanging sharp glances as though they were stalking some dangerous beast, and so they came within earshot of the gate and sheltered from view of it by the edge of the cliff. David paused and cautioned his companion with a mutely raised hand.
 
"He lived through the winter," Ephraim was saying. "I took him into my room and cherished him by the warmth of my fire and with rubbing, so that when spring came, and gentler weather, he was still alive—a great leggy colt with a backbone² that almost lifted through the skin. Only high bright eyes comforted me and told me that my work was a good work."
 
David and Jacob interchanged nods of wonder, for Ephraim was telling to this woman the dearest secret of his life.
 
It was how he had saved the weakling colt, Jumis, and raised him to a beautiful, strong stallion, only to have him die suddenly in the height of his promise. Certainly Ephraim was nearly won over by the woman; it threw David on guard.
 
"Go back to Abra," he whispered. "Ride on to the gate and tell her boldly to be gone. I shall wait here, and in time of need I shall help you. Make haste. Ephraim grows like wet clay under her fingers. Ah, how wise is Benjamin!"
 
Jacob obeyed. He stole away and presently shot past at the full gallop³ of Abra. The stallion came to a sliding halt, and Jacob spoke⁴ from his back, which was a grave discourtesy in the Garden of Eden.
 
"The master will not see you," he said. "The sun is still high. Return by the way you have come; you get no more from the Garden than its water and its air. He does not sell horses."
 
For the first time she spoke, and at the sound of her voice David Eden stepped out from the rock; he remembered himself in time and shrank back to shelter.
 
"He sold this horse."
 
"It was the will of the men before David that these things should be done, but the Lord knows the mind of David and that his heart bleeds for every gelding that leaves the Garden. See what you have done to him! The marks of the whip and the spur are on his sides. Woe⁵ to you if David should see them!"
 
She cried out at that in such a way that David almost felt she had been struck.
 
"It was the work of a drunken fool, and not mine."
 
"Then God have mercy on that man, for if the master should see him, David would have no mercy. I warn you: David is one with a fierce eye and a strong hand. Be gone before he comes and sees the scars on the gray horse."
 
"Then he is coming?"
 
"She is quick," thought David, as an embarrassed pause ensued. "Truly, Benjamin was right, and there is danger in these creatures."
 
"He has many horses," the girl went on, "and I have only this one. Besides, I would pay well for another."
 
"What price?"
 
"He should not have asked," muttered David.
 
"Everything that I have," she was answering, and the low thrill of her voice went through and through the master of the Garden. "I could buy other horses with this money, but not another like my gray. He is more than a horse. He is a companion to me. He understands me when I talk, and I understand him. You see how he stands with his head down? He is not tired, but hungry. When he neighs in a certain way from the corral I know that he is lonely. You see that he comes to me now? That is because he knows I am talking about him, for we are friends. But he is old and he will die, and what shall I do then? It will be like a death in my house!"
 
Another pause followed.
 
"You love the horse," said the voice of Ephraim, and it was plain that Jacob was beyond power of speech.
 
"And I shall pay for another. Hold out your hand."
 
"I cannot take it."
 
Nevertheless, it seemed that he obeyed, for presently the girl continued: "After my father died I sold the house. It was pretty well blanketed with a mortgage, but I cleared out this hundred from the wreck⁶. I went to work and saved what I could. Ten dollars every month, for twenty months—you can count for yourself—makes two hundred, and here's the two hundred more in your hand. Three hundred altogether. Do you think it's enough?"
 
"If there were ten times as much," said Jacob, "it would not be enough. There—take your money. It is not enough. There is no money price on the heads of the master's horses."
 
But a new light had fallen upon David. Women, as he had heard of them, were idle creatures who lived upon that which men gained with sweaty toil⁷, but this girl, it seemed, was something more. She was strong enough to earn her bread, and something more. Money values were not clear to David Eden, but three hundred dollars sounded a very considerable sum. He determined⁸ to risk exposure by glancing around the rock. If she could work like a man, no doubt she was made like a man and not like those useless and decorative⁹ creatures of whom Matthew had often spoken to him, with all their graces and voices.
 
Cautiously he peered and he saw her standing¹⁰ beside the old, broken gray horse. Even old Ephraim seemed a stalwart figure............