“It will be a great help to me to have you here to nurse your father.” The girl looked up and did not answer.
“Much depends upon you,” he continued. “It is only with your aid that I can do my best.”
Walda Kellar again raised her eyes. Then, in her soft, deep voice, she said:
“The Lord hath sent thee to Zanah. Thou shalt have all my help. Thou hast already won my gratitude.”
Again a silence fell. Everett leaned back in the splint-bottomed chair and resolved to make the most of his opportunities of being alone with the prophetess. Upon his perch the chaffinch looked out through the bars at the quiet room.
Outside the crimson sky was turning to purple, the fields had become a tender brown, and the bluffs made a dark line to the west. Everett, who gazed at the distant hills, compared the surging world to which he belonged with the peaceful colony of Zanah, the dwelling-place of Walda Kellar. The contrast between his own life and that of the strange girl impressed itself upon him. Now and then he brought his glance back from the far bluffs to look at the fair woman who was oblivious of his presence.
The chaffinch chirped his drowsy notes, and Walda Kellar, looking up at the bird, said:
The bird turned his restless head back and forth, and Everett imagined that the chaffinch might object to his presence.
“Is that your bird?” he asked, relieved at even the paltriest excuse for again starting a conversation.
Walda stopped her knitting and, smiling, said:
“Piepmatz is my _liebchen_; he hath a voice as clear as that of a lark. He can whistle tunes; he knows a bar of the doxology.”
Everett went to the cage and whistled softly. The bird chirped his silvery note, and, thus encouraged, the man whistled the strain of a love-song. The bird imitated three notes.
“That is a noble hymn thou art whistling,” said Walda Kellar. “I have heard that there is wonderful music out there in the world, and that they play on strange instruments.”
“And have you never heard an organ or a violin?” asked Everett.
“And is even the piano barred out of Zanah?”
“Zanah permits no musical instrument. Gerson Brandt keepeth yet a flute that he brought with him from the world, but it is always silent here.”
“Perhaps you will let me sing you the tune you seemed to like?” said Everett. “Some day when I am not afraid of disturbing your father you shall hear it all.”