'Be good enough, therefore, to make up your mind which it is to be.

Am I to go with my news to the captain, or am I to come with you ?' 'Give me the pitcher,' she said harshly.
I did so, wondering.

In a moment she flung it with a savage gesture far into the bushes.
'Come!' she said, 'if you will.

But some day God will punish you!' Without another word she turned and entered the path through the trees, and I followed her.

I suppose that every one of its windings, every hollow and broken place in it had been known to her from childhood, for she followed it swiftly and unerringly, barefoot as she was.