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diff --git a/26527-h/26527-h.htm b/26527-h/26527-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed124ff --- /dev/null +++ b/26527-h/26527-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11128 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Judith of the Cumberlands, by Alice MacGowan</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.2em;} + h3.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size: 110%;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + .caption {font-size:0.8em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + div.ra p {text-align: right; margin: auto 0;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="figcenter">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Judith of the Cumberlands, by Alice MacGowan, +Illustrated by George Wright</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Judith of the Cumberlands</p> +<p>Author: Alice MacGowan</p> +<p>Release Date: September 4, 2008 [eBook #26527]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JUDITH OF THE CUMBERLANDS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 333px; height: 512px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 333px;'> +“The moonlight flickered on the blade in his hand as he reeled backward over the bluff” (page 145).<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>JUDITH OF</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.6em; margin-bottom:2em;'>THE CUMBERLANDS</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'>ALICE MACGOWAN</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>“THE WIVING OF LANCE CLEAVERAGE,”</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>“THE LAST WORD,” “HULDAH,” “RETURN,” ETC.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:5em;'>GEORGE WRIGHT</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p style=' font-size:1em; margin-bottom:2em;'>PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright</span>, 1908</p> +<p>BY</p> +<p>ALICE MACGOWAN</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers,</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>G. P. Putnam’s Sons, New York and London</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>DEDICATION</p> +</div> + +<p>To my mountain friends, dwellers in lonely cabins, on +winding horseback trails and steep, precarious roads; or in the +tiny settlements that nestle in the high-hung inner valleys; +lean brown hunters on remote paths in the green shadowed +depths of the free forest, light-stepping, keen-eyed, humorous-lipped, +hitting the point as aptly with an instance as with the +old squirrel gun they carry; wielders of the axe by many a +chip pile, where the swinging blade rests readily to answer +query or offer advice; tanned, lithely moving lads following +the plough, turning over the shoulder a countenance of dark +beauty; grave, shy girls, pail in hand, at the milking-bars +in dawn or dusk; young mothers in the doorway, looking +out, babe on hip; big-eyed, bare-footed mountain children +clinging hand in hand by the roadside, or clustered like +startled little partridges in the shelter of the dooryard; +knitters in the sun and grandams by the hearth; tellers and +treasurers all of tales and legends couched in racy old Elizabethan +English; I dedicate this—their book and mine.</p> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>FOREWORD</p> +</div> + +<p>I have been so frequently asked how I, a +woman, came by my intimate acquaintance +with life in the more remote districts of the southern +Appalachians, particularly in the matter of +illicit distilling, that I think it not amiss to +here set down a few words as to my sources of +knowledge.</p> +<p>I have always lived in a small city in the heart +of the Cumberlands, and a portion of each year +was spent in the mountains themselves. The +speech of Judith and her friends and kin has been +familiar to me from childhood; their point of +view, their customs and possessions as well known +to me as my own. Then when I began to write, +I was one summer at Roan Mountain, on the +North Carolina-Tennessee line, probably less than +two hundred miles from Chattanooga by the +railway, and Gen. John T. Wilder, who had +campaigned all through the fastnesses of that +inaccessible region, suggested to me that I buy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_407' name='page_407'></a>407</span> +a mountain-bred saddle horse, and ride such a +route as he would give me, bringing up, after +about a thousand miles of it, at my home. To +follow the itinerary that the old soldier marked +out on the map for me was to leave railroads +and modern civilisation as we know it, penetrate +the wild heart of the region, and, depending on +the wayside dwellers for hospitality and lodging +from night to night, be forcibly thrust into an +intimate comprehension of a phase of American +life which is perhaps the most primitive our +country affords.</p> +<p>I was more than eight weeks making this trip, +carrying with me all necessary baggage on my +capacious, cowgirl saddle with its long and numerous +buckskin tie-strings. At first I shrank +very much from riding up to a cabin—a young +woman, alone, with garments and outfit that +must challenge the attention and curiosity of +these people—in the dusk of evening or in a +heavy rain-storm, and asking in set terms for +lodging. But it took only a few days for me to +find that here I was never to be stared at, wondered +at, nor questioned; and that, proffering my +request under such conditions, I was met by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_408' name='page_408'></a>408</span> +instant hospitality, and a grave, uninquiring +courtesy unsurpassed and not always equalled +in the best society, and I seemed to evoke a swift +tenderness that was almost compassion.</p> +<p>During this journey I became acquainted with +some features of mountain life which I might +never have known otherwise. My best friends +in the mountains in the neighbourhood of my +own home had always been a little shy of discussing +moonshine whiskey and moonshiners; but +here I earned a dividend upon my misfortunes, +being more than once taken for a revenue spy; +and in the apologetic amenities of those who +had misjudged me, which followed my explanations +and proofs of innocence, I have been shown +in a spirit of atonement, illicit still and “hideout.” +I have heard old Jephthah Turrentine make his +protest against the government’s attitude toward +the mountain man and his “blockaded still.” +I have foregathered with the revenuers in the +settlements at the foot of the circling purple +ranges, and been shown the specially made axes +and hooks they carry with them for breaking +up and destroying the simple appurtenances of +the illicit manufacture. Knowing that Blatch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_409' name='page_409'></a>409</span> +Turrentine’s still must have cost him three +hundred dollars, I cannot wonder that a mountain +man, a thrifty fellow like Blatch, should +have lingered, even in great danger, over the +project of carrying it with him.</p> +<p>These dwellers in the southern mountain +region, the purest American strain left to us, +hold the interest and appeal of a changing, +vanishing type. The tide of enlightenment and +commercial prosperity must presently sweep in +and absorb them. And so I might hope that a +faithful picture of the life and manners I have +sought to represent in <i>Judith of the Cumberlands</i> +would be the better worth while.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A. Mac G.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Contents</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Spring</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_SPRING'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>At “The Edge”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_AT__THE_EDGE'>20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Suitors</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_SUITORS'>47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Building</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_BUILDING'>64</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Red Rose and the Briar</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_THE_RED_ROSE_AND_THE_BRIAR'>83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Play-Party</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THE_PLAYPARTY'>99</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Kisses</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_KISSES'>112</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>On the Doorstone</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_ON_THE_DOORSTONE'>124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Foeman’s Bluff</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_FOEMAN_S_BLUFF'>135</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Spy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_A_SPY'>152</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Warning</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_WARNING'>161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In the Lion’s Den</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_IN_THE_LION_S_DEN'>181</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In the Night</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_IN_THE_NIGHT'>199</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Raid</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_THE_RAID'>207</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Council of War</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_COUNCIL_OF_WAR'>221</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Message</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_A_MESSAGE'>235</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Old Cherokee Trail</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_THE_OLD_CHEROKEE_TRAIL'>244</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Bitter Parting</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_BITTER_PARTING'>261</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Cast Out</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_CAST_OUT'>273</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Conversion</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_A_CONVERSION'>282</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Baptising</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXI_THE_BAPTISING'>302</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Ebb-Tide</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXII_EBBTIDE'>315</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Dumb Supper</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIII_THE_DUMB_SUPPER'>326</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Case of Walking Typhoid</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXIV_A_CASE_OF_WALKING_TYPHOID'>340</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Perilous Passage</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXV_A_PERILOUS_PASSAGE'>360</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>His Own Trap</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVI_HIS_OWN_TRAP'>371</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Love’s Guerdon</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVII_LOVE_S_GUERDON'>382</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Prophecy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XXVIII_A_PROPHECY'>393</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.3em; margin-top:2em;'>Judith of the Cumberlands</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_SPRING' id='I_SPRING'></a> +<h2>Chapter I</h2> +<h3>Spring</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Won’t you be jest dressed to kill an’ cripple +when you get that on! Don’t it set her +off, Jeffy Ann?”</p> +<p>The village milliner fell back, hands on hips, +thin lips screwed up, and regarded the possible +purchaser through narrowed eyes of simulated +ecstasy.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” debated the brown beauty, +surveying herself in a looking-glass by means +of an awkwardly held hand-mirror. “’Pears +to me this one’s too little. Hit makes me +look like I was sent for and couldn’t come. +But I do love red. I think the red on here is +mightly sightly.”</p> +<p>Instantly the woman of the shop had the hat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +off the dark young head and in her own hands.</p> +<p>“This is a powerful pretty red bow,” she +assented promptly. “I can take it out just as +easy as not, and tack it onto that big hat you +like. I believe you’re right; and red certainly +does go with yo’ hair and eyes.” Again she +gazed with languishing admiration at her customer.</p> +<p>And Judith Barrier was well worth it, tall, +justly proportioned, deep-bosomed, long-limbed, +with the fine hands and feet of the true mountaineer. +The thick dusk hair rose up around +her brow in a massive, sculptural line; her dark +eyes—the large, heavily fringed eyes of a dryad—glowed +with the fires of youth, and with a +certain lambent shining which was all their own; +the stain on her cheeks was deep, answering to +the ripe red of the full lips.</p> +<p>In point of fact Mrs. Rhody Staggart the +milliner considered her a big, coarse country +girl, and thought that a pair of stout corsets +well pulled in would improve her crude figure; +but she dealt out compliments without ceasing +as she exchanged the red bow for the blue, +and laboriously pinned the headgear upon the +bronze-brown coils, admonishing gravely, “Far +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +over to one side, honey—jest the way they’re +a-wearin’ them in New York this minute.”</p> +<p>The buyer once more studied her mirror, and +its dumb honesty told her that she was beautiful. +Then she looked about for some human eyes to +make the same communication.</p> +<p>“What’s a-goin’ on over yon at the Co’t +House?” she inquired with languid interest, +looking across the open square.</p> +<p>“They’s a political speakin’,” explained the +other. “Creed Bonbright he wants to be elected +jestice of the peace and go back to the Turkey +Tracks and set up a office. Fool boy! You +know mighty well an’ good they’ll run him out +o’ thar—or kill him, one.”</p> +<p>Although the girl had herself ridden down from +Turkey Track Mountain that morning, and the +old Bonbright farm adjoined her own, the news +held no interest for her. She wished the gathering +might have been something more to her purpose; +but she solemnly paid for the hat, and with the +cheap finery on her stately young head, which +had been more appropriately crowned with a +chaplet of vine leaves, moved to the door. She +hoped that standing there, waiting for the boys +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +to bring her horse, she might attract some attention +by her recently acquired splendour.</p> +<p>She looked up at the Court House steps. The +building was humbly in the Greek manner, as +are so many of the public structures in the South. +Between its great white pillars, flaking paint +and half-heartedly confessing their woodland +genesis, stood a tall young man, bareheaded. +The doubtful sunlight of a March day glinted +on his uncovered yellow hair. He was speaking +rapidly in a fervid fashion that seemed beyond +the occasion; in his blue eyes shone something +of the fanatic’s passion; his bearing was that of +a man who conceives himself to have a mission +and a message.</p> +<p>Judith looked at him. She heard no word of +what he was saying—but him she heard. She +heard the high, vibrant voice, saw the fair hair +on the upflung head, the rapt look in the blue +eyes with their quick-expanding pupils. Suddenly +her world turned over. In a smother of +strange, uncomprehended emotions, she was +gropingly glad she had the new hat—glad she +had it on now, and that Mrs. Staggart herself +had adjusted it. On blind impulse she edged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +around into plainer view, pushing freely in +amongst the fringe of men and boys, an unheard-of +thing for a well taught mountain girl to do, +but Judith was for the moment absolutely unconscious +of their humanity.</p> +<p>“You never go a-nigh my people,” cried +Bonbright in that clear thrilling tenor that is like +a trumpet call, “you never go a-nigh them with +the statute—with government—except when the +United States marshal takes a posse up and +raids the stills and brings down his prisoners. +That’s all the valley knows of the mountain +folks. The law’s never carried to anybody up +there except the offenders and criminals. The +Turkey Track neighbourhoods, Big and Little, +have got a mighty bad name with you-all. But +you ought to understand that violence must +come when every man is obliged to take the law +into his own hands. I admit that it’s an eye +for an eye and a tooth for a tooth with us now—what +else could it be? And yet we are as faithful +to each other, as virtuous, and as God-fearing +a race as those in the valley. I am a mountain +man, born and bred in the Turkey Tracks; and +I ask you to send me back to my neighbours with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +the law, that they may learn to be good citizens, +as they are already good men and women.”</p> +<p>Upon the word, there broke out at the farthest +corner of the square an abrupt splatter of sound, +oaths, cries, punctuated by the swift staccato of +running feet. The ringing voice came to a sudden +halt. Out of a little side street which descended +from the mountain, a young fellow burst into +view, running in long leaping bounds, his hands +up. Behind him lumbered Dan Haley the United +States marshal, a somewhat heavy-set man, +puffing and panting, yelling, “Halt! halt! halt!” +and finally turning loose a fusillade of shots aimed +high over the fleeing lad’s head. There was a +drawing back and a scattering in every direction.</p> +<p>“Hey, Bonbright!” vociferated a man leaping +up from the last step where he had been sitting, +pointing to where the marshal’s deputy followed +behind herding five or six prisoners from the +mountains, “Hey, Bonbright! There’s some of +your constituency—some God-fearing Turkey-Trackers—now, +but I reckon you won’t own +’em.”</p> +<p>“I will!” shouted Bonbright, whirling upon +him, and one got suddenly the blue fire of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +hawk-like eye with the slant brow above. “They +<i>are</i> my people, and the way they’re treated is +what I’ve been trying to talk to you-all +about.”</p> +<p>“Well, you better go and take them fellers +some law right now,” jeered his interlocutor. +“Looks like to me they need it mighty bad.”</p> +<p>“That’s just what I’m about,” answered +Bonbright. “God knows they’ll get no justice +unless I do. That’s my job,” and without another +word or a look behind him he made his way +bareheaded through the group on the steps and +down the street.</p> +<p>Meantime the pursued had turned desperately +and dodged into the millinery store whence Judith +Barrier had emerged a little earlier. Instantly +there came out to the listeners the noise of falling +articles and breaking glass, and the squeals and +scufflings of the women. The red-faced marshal +dived in after his quarry, and emerged a moment +later holding him by one elbow, swearing angrily. +Creed Bonbright came up at the instant, and +Haley, needing some one to whom he could +express himself, explained in voluble anger:</p> +<p>“The damned little shoat! Said if I’d let him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +walk a-loose he’d give me information. You +can’t trust none of them.”</p> +<p>Bonbright laid a reassuring touch on the +fugitive’s shoulder as Haley fumbled after the +handcuffs.</p> +<p>“I ain’t been into no stillin’, Creed!” panted +the squirming boy.</p> +<p>“Well, don’t run then,” admonished Bonbright. +“You’ve got no call to. I’ll see that +you get justice.”</p> +<p>While he spoke there wheeled into the square, +from a nearby waggon-yard, two young mountaineers +on mules, one leading by the bridle-rein +a sorrel horse with a side-saddle on it. At sight +of the marshal and those with him, an almost +imperceptible tremor went through the pair. +There was a flicker of nostril, a rounding of eye, +as their glance ran swiftly from one to another +of Haley’s prisoners. They were like wild game +that winds the hunter.</p> +<p>“St! You Pony Card, is that them?” whispered +Haley, sharply nudging the prisoner he +held. “Turn him a-loose, Bonbright; I’ve got +him handcuffed now.”</p> +<p>The boy—he was not more than sixteen—choked, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +reddened, held down his head, studying +the marshal’s face anxiously from beneath +lowered flax-coloured brows.</p> +<p>“Yes, them’s Andy and Jeff Turrentine,” +Bonbright heard the husky, reluctant whisper. +“Now cain’t I go?”</p> +<p>The newcomers were beyond earshot, but the +by-play was ominous to them. The lean young +bodies stiffened in their saddles, the reins came +up in their hands. For a moment it seemed as +if they would turn and run for it. But it was +too late. Without making any reply Haley +shoved his prisoner into the hands of the deputy +and with prompt action intercepted the two and +placed them under arrest. Bonbright observed +one of the boys beckon across the heads of +the gathering crowd before he dismounted, and +noted that some one approached from the +direction of the Court House steps and received +the three riding animals. In the confusion he +did not see who this was. Haley spoke to his +deputy, and then drew their party sharply off +toward the jail, which could be used temporarily +for the detention of United States prisoners. +To the last the young Turrentines muttered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +together and sent baleful glances toward Bonbright, +whom they plainly conceived to be the author +of their troubles. Poor Pony Card plodded +with bent head mutely behind them, a furtive +hand travelling now and again to his eyes.</p> +<p>Such crowd as the little village had collected +was following, Bonbright with the rest, when he +encountered the girl who had come from the milliner’s +shop. She stood now alone by the sorrel +horse with the side-saddle on it, holding the +bridle-reins of the two mules, and there was a +bewildered look in her dark eyes as the noisy +throng swept past her which brought him—led +in the hand of destiny—instantly to her side.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked her. “Can I +help you?” And Judith who, in her perturbation, +had not seen him before, started violently at the +words and tone.</p> +<p>“They’ve tuck the boys,” she hesitated, in a +rich, broken contralto, that voice which beyond +all others moves the hearts of hearers, “I—I +don’t know how I’m a-goin’ to get these here +mules home. Pete he won’t lead so very well.”</p> +<p>“Oh, were you with the men Haley arrested?” +ejaculated Bonbright. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></p> +<p>“Yes, they’re my cousins. I don’t know +what he tuck ’em for,” the young, high-couraged +head turned jailward; the dark eyes flashed a +resentful look after the retiring posse.</p> +<p>“It looks like to me, from what Haley said, +that there’s nothing against them,” Bonbright +reassured her. “But they’re likely to be held +as witnesses—that’s the worst about this business.</p> +<p>“I was going over there right now to see +what can be done about it—being a sort of +lawyer. But let me help you first. I’m Creed +Bonbright—reckon you know the name—born +and raised on Big Turkey Track.”</p> +<p>Judith’s heart beat to suffocation, the while +she answered in commonplace phrase, “I +shorely do. My name is Judith Barrier; I +live with Uncle Jephthah Turrentine, on my +farm. Hit’s right next to the old Bonbright +place. We’ve been livin’ thar more’n four +years. I hate to go back and tell Uncle Jep of +the boys bein’ tuck; and that big mule, Pete, I +don’t know how I’m a-goin’ to git him out o’ +the settlement, he’s that mean and feisty about +town streets.”</p> +<p>“I reckon I can manage him,” Bonbright +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +suggested, looking about. “Oh, Givens!” he +called to a man hurrying past. “When you get +over there ask Haley not to take any definite +action—I reckon he wouldn’t anyhow. I’m +going to represent the prisoners, and I’ll be there +inside of half an hour. Now let me put you on +your horse, Miss Judith, and I’ll lead the mules +up the road a piece for you.”</p> +<p>And so it came about that Judith sprang to the +back of the sorrel nag from Creed Bonbright’s +hand. Creed, still bareheaded, and wholly unconscious +of the fact, walked beside her leading +the mules. They passed slowly up the street +towards the mountainward edge of Hepzibah, +talking as they went in the soft, low, desultory +fashion of their people.</p> +<p>The noises of the village, aroused from its +usual dozing calm, died away behind them. Beyond +the last cabin they entered a sylvan world +all their own. While he talked, questioning +and replying gravely and at leisure, the man was +revolving in his mind just what action would be +best for the prisoners whose cause he had espoused. +As for Judith, she had forgotten that such persons +existed, that such trivial mischance as their +arrest had just been; she was concerned wholly +with the immediate necessity to charm, to subjugate +the man.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +<img src='images/illus-012.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 365px; height: 502px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 365px;'> +“Creed walked beside her leading the mules.”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>A rustic belle and beauty, used to success in +such enterprises, in the limited time at her command +she brought out for Creed’s subduing her +little store of primitive arts. She would know, +Pete suggesting the topic, if he didn’t despise +a mule, adding encouragingly that she did. The +ash, it seemed, was the tree of her preference; +didn’t he think it mighty sightly now when it +was just coming into bloom? His favourite +season of the year, his favoured colour, of such +points she made inquiry, giving him, in an elusive +feminine fashion, ample opportunity to relate +himself to her. And always he answered. +When all was spoken, and at the first sharp rise +she drew rein for the inevitable separation, she +could not have said that she had failed; but she +knew that she had not succeeded.</p> +<p>“Ye can jest turn Pete a-loose now,” she told +him gently. “He’ll foller from here on.”</p> +<p>Bonbright, on his part, was not quite aware +why he paused here, yet it seemed cold and unfriendly +to say good-bye at once, Again he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +assured her that he would go immediately to the +jail and find what could be done for her cousins. +There was no more to be said now—yet they +lingered.</p> +<p>It was a blowy, showery March day, its lips +puckered for weeping or laughter at any moment, +the air full of the dainty pungencies of new life. +Winged ants, enjoying their little hour of glory, +swarmed from their holes and turned stone or +stump to a flickering, moving grey. About them +where they stood was the awakening world of +nature. Great, pale blue bird-foot violets were +blooming on favoured slopes, and in protected +hollows patches of eyebright made fairy forests +on the moss, while under tatters of dead leaves +by the brookside arbutus blushed. Above their +heads the tracery of branches was a lace-work +overlaid with fanlike budding green leaves, except +where the maples showed scarlet tassels, or the +Judas tree flaunted its bold, lying, purple-pink +promise of fruitage never to be fulfilled.</p> +<p>Could two young creatures be wiser than +nature’s self? It was the new time; all the +gauzy-winged ephemerę in the moist March +woods were throbbing with it, buzzing or flashing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +about seeking mates and nectar. The earth had +wakened from her winter sleep and set her face +toward her ancient, ardent lover, the sun. In +the soul of Judith Barrier—Judith the nature +woman—all this surged strongly. As for the man, +he had sent forth his spirit in so general a fashion, +he conceived himself to have a mission so impersonal, +that he scarce remembered what should +or should not please or attract Creed Bonbright.</p> +<p>Judith dreaded lest he make his farewells before +she had from him some earnest of a future meeting. +He could not say good-bye and let her leave +him so! It seemed to her that if he did she +should die before she reached the mountain-top. +Dark, rich, earth-born, earth-fast, material, she +looked down at Creed where he stood beside her, +his hand on the sorrel’s neck, his calm blue eyes +raised to hers. Her gaze lingered on the fair +hair flying in the March breeze, above a face +selfless as that of some young prophet. Her +eager, undisciplined nature found here what it +craved. Coquetry had not availed her; it had +fallen off him unrecognised—this man who +answered it absently, and thought his own +thoughts. And with the divine pertinacity of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +life itself she delved in the ancient wisdom of +her sex for a lure to make him rise and follow +her. It was not bright eyes nor red lips that +could move or please him? But she had seen +him moved, aroused. The hint was plain. Instantly +abandoning her personal siege, she espoused +the cause of her bodiless rival.</p> +<p>“I—I heard you a-speakin’ back there,” she +said with a little catch in her breath.</p> +<p>Bonbright’s eyes returned from the far distances +to which they had travelled after giving her—Judith +Barrier, so worthy of a blue-eyed youth’s +respectful attention—a passing glance. She replied +to his gaze with one full of a meaning to +him at that time indecipherable; nevertheless it +was an ardent, compelling look which he must +needs answer with some confession of himself.</p> +<p>“You wouldn’t understand what I was trying +to tell about,” he began gently. “Since I’ve +been living in the valley, where folks get rich and +see a heap of what they call pleasure, I’ve had +many a hard thought about the lives of our +people up yonder in the mountains. I want to +go back to my people with—I want to tell +them—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>The girl leaned forward in her saddle, burning +eyes fixed on his intent face, red lips apart.</p> +<p>“Yes—what?” she breathed. “What is it you +want to say to the folks back home? You ort +to come and say it. We need it bad.”</p> +<p>“Do you think so?” asked Bonbright doubtfully. +“Do you reckon they would listen to me? +I don’t know. Sometimes I allow maybe I’d +better stay here where the Judge wants me to +till I’m an older man and more experienced.”</p> +<p>He studied the beautiful, down-bent face +greedily now, but it was not the eye of a man +looking at a maid. His thoughts were with the +work he hoped to do. Judith’s heart contracted +with fear, and then set off beating heavily. Wait +till he was an old man? Would love wait? +Somebody else would claim him—some town girl +would find the way to charm him. In sheer terror +she put down her hand and laid it upon his.</p> +<p>“Don’t you never think it,” she protested. +“You’re needed right now. After a while will +be too late. Why, I come a-past your old home +in the rain last Wednesday, and I could ’a’ cried +to see the winders dark, and the grass all grown +up to the front door. You come back whar +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +you belong—” she had almost said “honey”—“and +you’ll find there is need a-plenty for folks +like you.”</p> +<p>“Well, they all allow that I’ll be elected next +Thursday,” Creed assented, busying himself over +the lengthening of Beck’s bridle, that she might +lead the mule the more handily. “And if I am +I’ll be in the Turkey Tracks along in April and +find me a place to set up an office. If I’m +elected——”</p> +<p>“Elected! An’ ef yo’r not?” she cried, filled +with scorn of such a paltry condition. What +difference could it make whether or not he were +elected? Wouldn’t his hair be just as yellow, +his eyes as blue? Would his voice be any less +the call to love?</p> +<p>He smiled at her tolerantly, handing up the +lengthened strap.</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t just rightly know what I will +do, then,” he debated.</p> +<p>“But you’re a-comin’ up to the Turkey Tracks +anyhow, to—to see yo’ folks,” persisted Judith +with a rising triumph in her tone.</p> +<p>“Yes,” acquiesced Bonbright, “I’ll come up +in April anyhow.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></p> +<p>And with this assurance the girl rode slowly +away, leading Beck, the now resigned Pete following +behind. All the sounds from the valley +were gathered as in a vast bowl and flung upward, +refined by distance. A moment she halted listening, +then breasted the first rise and entered that +deep silence which waits the mountain dweller. +The great forest closed about her.</p> +<p>Creed Bonbright stood for a moment in the +open road looking after her. Something she +had conveyed to him, some call sent forth, which +had not quite reached the ear of his spirit, and +yet which troubled his calm. He lifted his gaze +toward the bulk of the big mountain looming +above him. He passed his hand absently +through his fair hair, then tossed his head back +with a characteristic motion. It was good to know +he was needed up there. It was good to know +he would be welcomed. So far the girl had made +her point. After this the mountains and Judith +Barrier would mean one thing in the young man’s +mind. As the shortest way to them both, he +turned and walked swiftly down toward the +settlement and to the undertaking which there +awaited him.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='II_AT__THE_EDGE' id='II_AT__THE_EDGE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +<h2>Chapter II</h2> +<h3>At “The Edge”</h3> +</div> + +<p>The girl on the sorrel nag and the two riderless +animals toiled patiently up the broad, +timbered flank of Big Turkey Track, following the +raw red gash in the greenery that was the road.</p> +<p>She gazed with wondering eyes at the familiar +landmarks of the trail. All was just as it +had been when she rode down it at dawn that +morning, Andy and Jeff ahead on their mules +whistling, singing, skylarking like two playful +bear cubs. It was herself that was changed. +She pushed the cheap hat off her hot forehead +and tried to win to some coherence of thought +and—so far had she already come on a new, +strange path—looked back with wondering uncomprehension, +as upon the beliefs and preferences +of a crude primitive ancestress, to the girl who +had cared that this hat cost a dollar and a half +instead of a dollar and a quarter—only a few +hours since when she bought it at the store. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +She went over the bits of talk that had been +between her and Creed Bonbright. What had he +said his favourite colour was? Memory brought +back his rapt young face when she put the question +to him. She trembled with delight at the +recollection. His eyes were fixed upon the sky, +and he had answered her absently, “blue.”</p> +<p>Blue! What a fool—what a common thickheaded +fool she had been all her days! She +let the sorrel take his own gait, hooked his bridle-rein +and Beck’s upon the saddle-horn, and lifting +her arms withdrew the hatpins and took off the +unworthy headgear. For a moment she regarded +savagely the cheap red ribbon which had appeared +so beautiful to her; then with strong +brown fingers tore it loose and flung it in the dust +of the road, where Pete shied at it, and the stolid +Beck coming on with flapping ears set hoof upon it.</p> +<p>What vast world forces move with our movements, +pluck us uncomprehending from the +station we had struggled for, and make our +sorrowful meat of our attained desires! The stars +in their courses pivot and swing on these subtle +attractions, ancient as themselves. Judith Barrier, +tearing the gaudy ribbon from her hat and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +casting it upon the road under her horse’s feet, +stood to learn what the priests of Isis knew thousands +of years ago, that red is the symbol of +pleasure and of mere animal comfort, while blue +is the colour of pure reason.</p> +<p>Halfway up the trail they rode into a cloud +that rested trembling on the mountain-side, +passed through it and emerged upon fitful sunlight. +Near the top there came a sudden shower +which descended with the souse of an overturned +bucket. It won small attention from Judith, +but Pete and Beck resented it in mule fashion, +with a laying back of ears and lashing out of +heels. These amenities were exchanged for the +most part across the intervening sorrel nag and +his rider, and Selim replied promptly and in +kind, almost unseating Judith.</p> +<p>“You Selim!” she cried jerking the rein. “You +feisty Pete! You no-account Beck! What ails +you-all? Cain’t you behave?” and once more +she lapsed into dreaming. It was Selim who, +wise and old, stopped at Aunt Nancy Card’s +gate and gave Judith an opportunity to descend +if such were her preference.</p> +<p>On the porch of the cabin sat a tall, lean, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +black-eyed old man smoking his pipe, Jephthah +Turrentine himself. Nancy Card, a dry, brown +little sparrow of a woman, occupied a chair +opposite him, and negotiated a pipe quite as +elderly and evil-smelling as his own.</p> +<p>The kerchief folded about her neck was notably +white; her clean check-apron rustled with starch; +but the half-grey hair crinkling rebelliously from +its loose coil was never confined by anything +more rigorous than a tucking comb. In moments +of stress this always slipped down, and +had to be vigorously replaced, so that stray +strands were apt to be tossing about her eyes—fearless, +direct blue eyes, that looked out of her +square, wrinkled, weather-beaten little face with +the sincere gaze of an urchin. Back of her chair +lay a bundle of white-oak splits for use in her +by-trade of basket-weaver; above them hung +bundles of drying herbs, for Nancy was a sick-nurse +and a bit of an herb-doctor. She had made +a hard and a more or less losing fight against +poverty—the men folk of these hardy, valiant +little women seem predestined to be shiftless.</p> +<p>It came back to Judith dimly as she looked +at them—she was in a mood to remember such +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +things—that her uncle had courted Nancy Card +when these two were young people, that they +had quarrelled, both had married, reared families, +and been widowed; and they were quarrelling still! +Acrimonious debate with Nancy was evidently +such sweet pain that old Jephthah sought every +opportunity for it, and the sudden shower in the +vicinity of her cabin had offered him an excuse +to-day.</p> +<p>Nancy did not confine her practice to what she +would have called humans, but doctored a horse +or a cow with equal success. One cold spring +a little chicken had its feet frozen in the wet +barnyard so badly that it lost one of them, and +Nancy, who had taken the poor mite into the +house and nursed it till she loved it, constructed +for it a wooden leg consisting of a small, light +peg strapped to the stump. And thereafter +Nicodemus, a rooster who must now belie the +name since he could not cling to a perch with his +single foot, became an institution in the Card +household.</p> +<p>Jephthah Turrentine was a natural bone-setter, +and was sent for far and near to reduce +a dislocation or bandage a broken limb. In the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +pursuit of this which came to be almost a profession, +he acquired a good knowledge of tending +upon the sick, and the bitterness of rival practitioners +was added to the score between him and +Nancy. The case of Nicodemus furnished the +man with a chance to call the woman a chicken +doctor, and the name appealing to the humorous +side of mountain character stuck to her, greatly +to her disgust.</p> +<p>Aunt Nancy’s dooryard was famous for its +flowers, being a riot of pied bloom from March +till December. Even now fire-in-the-bush and +bridal wreath made gay the borders.</p> +<p>“Good land, Jude Barrier!” called Nancy herself. +“You’re as wet as a drownded rat. ’Light +and come in.”</p> +<p>Old Turrentine permitted his niece to clamber +from Selim, and secure him and both mules.</p> +<p>“Whar’s the boys?” he inquired in a great, +sonorous bass, the deep, true-pitched voice promised +by the contours of strong bony arches under +heavy brows and the strong nose-bridge.</p> +<p>“In jail,” responded Judith laconically, turning +to enter the gate. Then, as she walked up +the hard-trodden clay path between the tossing, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +dripping heads of daffodils, “Uncle Jep, did you +know Creed Bonbright’s daddy?”</p> +<p>“In jail!” echoed Nancy Card, making a pretence +of trying to suppress a titter, and thereby +rendering it more offensive. “Ain’t they beginnin’ +ruther young?”</p> +<p>Tall old Jephthah got to his feet, knocked the +ashes from his pipe and put it in his pocket.</p> +<p>“Who tuck ’em?” he inquired briefly, but with +a fierce undernote in his tones. “What was they +tuck fer?”</p> +<p>“I never noticed,” said Judith, standing on the +step before them, wringing the wet from her black +calico riding skirt. “Nobody named it to me +what they was tuck fer. I was talkin’ to Creed +Bonbright, and he ’lowed to find out. He said +that was his business.”</p> +<p>“Creed Bonbright,” echoed her uncle; “what’s +he got to do with it? He’s been livin’ down in +Hepzibah studyin’ to be a lawyer—did he have +Jeff and Andy jailed?”</p> +<p>Judith shook her head. “He didn’t have +nothing to do with it,” she answered. “He +’lowed they would be held for witnesses against +some men Haley had arrested. But he’s goin’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +to come back and live on Turkey Track,” she +added, as though that were the only thing of +importance in the world. “He says we-all need +law in the mountings, and he’s a-goin’ to bring +it to us.”</p> +<p>“Well, he’d better let my boys alone if he +don’t want trouble,” growled old Jephthah but +half appeased.</p> +<p>“I reckon a little touch of law now an’ agin +won’t hurt yo’ boys,” put in Nancy Card smoothly. +“My chaps always tuck to law like a duck to +water. I reckon I ain’t got the right sympathy +fer them that has lawless young ’uns.”</p> +<p>“Yo’ Pony was arrested afore Andy and Jeff,” +Judith remarked suddenly, without any apparent +malice. “He was the first one I seen comin’ +down the road, and Dan Haley behind him a-shootin’ +at him.”</p> +<p>Jephthah Turrentine forebore to laugh. But +he deliberately drew out his old pipe again, +filled it and stepped inside for a coal with which +to light it.</p> +<p>“Mebbe yo’ sympathies will be more tenderer +for me in my afflictions of lawless sons after +this, Nancy,” he called derisively over his shoulder. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p> +<p>“Hit’s bound to be a mistake ’bout Pony,” +declared the little old woman in a bewildered +tone. “Pone ain’t but risin’ sixteen, and he’s +the peacefullest child——”</p> +<p>“Jest what I would have said about my twin +lambs,” interrupted old Jephthah with twinkling +eye, as he appeared in the doorway drawing +mightily upon the newly lighted pipe, tossing +his great beard from side to side of his mighty +chest. “My chaps is all as peaceful as kittens; +but some old woman gits to talkin’ and gives +’em a bad name, and it goes from lip to lip that +the Turrentine boys is lawless. Hit’s a sad +thing when a woman’s tongue is too long and +limber, and hung in the middle so it works at +both ends; the reppytations hit can destroy is +a sight.”</p> +<p>“But a body’s own child—they’ son! They’ +bound to stan’ up for him, whether he’s in the +right or the wrong,” maintained Nancy stoutly.</p> +<p>“Huh,” grunted Jephthah, “offspring is cur’ous. +Sometimes hit ’pears like you air kin to them, +and they ain’t kin to you. That Pony boy of +your’n is son to a full mealsack; he’s plumb +filial and devoted thataway to a dollar, if so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +be he thinks you’ve got one in yo’ pocket. The +facts in the business air, Nancy, that you’ve +done sp’iled him tell he’s plumb rotten, and a few +of the jailings that you so kindly ricommend +for my pair won’t do him no harm.”</p> +<p>Nancy tossed up her head to reply; but at the +moment a small boy, followed by a smaller girl, +coming around the corner of the house, created +a diversion. The girl, a little dancing imp with +a frazzle of flying red hair and red-brown eyes, +catching sight of Judith ran to her and flung +herself head foremost in the visitor’s lap, where +Judith cooed over her and cuddled her, rumpling +the bright hair, rubbing her crimson cheek against +the child’s peachy bloom.</p> +<p>“Little Buck and Beezy,” said Nancy Card, +addressing them both, “Yo’ unc’ Pony’s in jail. +What you-all goin’ to do about it?”</p> +<p>The small brown man of six stopped, his feet +planted wide on the sward, his freckled face +grave and stern as became his sex.</p> +<p>“Ef the boys goes down for to git him out, I’m +goin’ along,” Little Buck announced seriously. +“Is they goin’, granny?”</p> +<p>“I’ll set my old rooster on the jail man, an’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +hit’ll claw ’im,” announced Beezy, reckless of +distance and likelihood. “My old rooster can +claw dest awful, ef he ain’t got but one leg.”</p> +<p>Nancy chuckled. These grandchildren were +the delight of her heart.</p> +<p>The rain had ceased for the moment; the old +man moved to the porch edge, sighting at the +sky.</p> +<p>“I don’t know whar Blatch is a-keepin’ hisself,” +he observed. “Mebbe I better be a-steppin’.”</p> +<p>But even as he spoke a tall young mountaineer +swung into view down the road, dripping from +the recent rain, and with that resentful air the +best of us get from aggressions of the weather. +Blatchley Turrentine, old Jephthah’s nephew, +was as brown as an Indian, and his narrow, +glinting, steel-grey eyes looked out oddly cold +and alien from under level black brows, and a fell +of stiff black hair.</p> +<p>When the orphaned Judith, living in her Uncle +Jephthah’s family, was fourteen, the household +had removed from the old Turrentine place—which +was rented to Blatchley Turrentine—to her +better farm, whose tenant had proved unsatisfactory. +Well hidden in a gulch on the Turrentine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +acres there was an illicit still, what the +mountain people call a blockade still; and it had +been in pretty constant operation in earlier +years. When Jephthah abandoned those stony +fields for Judith’s more productive acres, he +definitely turned his own back upon this feature, +but Blatch Turrentine revived the illegal activities +and enlisted the old man’s boys in them. Jeff +and Andy had a tobacco patch in one corner +where the ground suited, and in another field +Jim Cal raised a little corn. Aside from these +small ventures, the place was given over entirely +to the secret still. The father held scornfully +aloof; his attitude was characteristic.</p> +<p>“Ef I pay no tax I’ll make no whiskey,” he +declared. “You-all boys will find yourselves behind +bars many a time when you’d ruther be out +squirrel-huntin’. Ef you make blockade whiskey +every fool that gits mad at you has got a stick +to hold over you. You are good-Lord-good-devil +to everybody, for fear they’ll lead to yo’ +still; or else you mix up with folks about the +business and kill somebody an’ git a bad name. +These here blockaded stills calls every worthless +feller in the district; most o’ the foolishness in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +this country goes on around ’em when the boys +gits filled up. I let every man choose his callin’, +but I don’t choose to be no moonshiner, and ef +you boys is wise you’ll say the same.”</p> +<p>As Blatchley came up now and caught sight +of the animals tethered at the fence he began +irritably:</p> +<p>“What in the name of common sense did Andy +and Jeff leave they’ mules here for? I can’t haul +any corn till I get the team and the waggon +together.”</p> +<p>“Looks like you’ve hauled too many loads +of corn that nobody knows the use of,” broke +out the irrepressible Nancy. “Andy and Jeff’s +in jail, and some fool has tuck my little Pone +along with the others.”</p> +<p>Blatch flung a swift look at his uncle; but +whatever his private conviction, to dishonour a +member of his tribe in the face of the enemy, +on the heels of defeat, was not what Jephthah +Turrentine would do.</p> +<p>“The boys is likely held for witnesses, Jude +allows,” the elder explained briefly. “You take +one mule and I’ll ride ’tother,” he added. “I’ll +he’p ye with the corn.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></p> +<p>This was a great concession, and as such +Blatchley accepted it.</p> +<p>“All right,” he returned. “Much obliged.”</p> +<p>Then he glanced unconcernedly at Judith, +and, instead of making that haste toward the +corn-hauling activities which his manner had +suggested, moved loungingly up the steps. Beezy, +from her sanctuary in Judith’s lap, viewed him +with contemptuous disfavour. Her brother, not +so safely situated, made to pass the intruder, +going wide like a shying colt.</p> +<p>With a sudden movement Blatchley caught +the child by the shoulders. There was a pantherlike +quickness in the pounce that was somehow +daunting from an individual of this man’s +size and impassivity.</p> +<p>“Hold on thar, young feller,” the newcomer +remarked. “Whar you a-goin’ to, all in sech +haste?”</p> +<p>“You turn me a-loose,” panted the child. +“I’m a-goin’ over to my Jude.”</p> +<p>“Oh, she’s yo’ Jude, is she? Well they’s +some other folks around here thinks she’s their +Jude—what you goin’ to do about it?”</p> +<p>All this time he held the small, dignified atom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +of humanity in a merciless grip that made Little +Buck ridiculous before his beloved, and fired his +childish soul to a very ecstasy of helpless rage.</p> +<p>“I’ll—kill—you when I git to be a man!” +the child gasped, between tears and terror. “I’ll +thest kill you—and I’ll wed Jude. You turn +me a-loose—that’s what you do.”</p> +<p>Blatch laughed tauntingly and raised the little +fellow high in air.</p> +<p>“Ef I was to turn you a-loose now hit’d bust +ye,” he drawled.</p> +<p>“I don’t keer. I——”</p> +<p>Around the corner of the cabin drifted Nicodemus, +the wooden-legged rooster, stumping +gravely with his dot-and-carry-one gait.</p> +<p>“Lord, Nancy, thar comes the one patient +ye ever cured!” chuckled old Jephthah. “I +don’t wonder yo’re proud enough of him to roof +him and affectionate him for the balance of his +life.”</p> +<p>“I reckon you’d do the same, ef so be ye should +ever cure one,” snapped Nancy, rising instantly +to the bait, and turning her back on the others. +“As ’t is, ef they hilt the buryin’ from the house +of the feller that killed the patient I reckon Jude +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +wouldn’t have nothin’ to do but git up funeral +dinners.”</p> +<p>Little Buck, despairing of granny’s interference, +began to cry. At the sound Judith +came suddenly out of a revery to spring up +and catch him away from the hateful restraining +hands.</p> +<p>“I don’t know what the Lord’s a-thinkin’ about +to let sech men as you live, Blatch Turrentine!” +she said almost mechanically. “Ef I was a-tendin’ +to matters I’d ’a’ had you dead long ago. Ef +you’re good for anything on this earth I don’t +know what it is.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes you do,” Blatchley returned as the +old man started down the steps. “I’d make the +best husband for you of any feller in the two +Turkey Tracks—and you’ll find it out one of +these days.”</p> +<p>The girl answered only with a contemptuous +glance.</p> +<p>“Come again—when you ain’t got so long to +stay,” Nancy sped them sourly. “Jude, you’d +better set awhile and get your skirts dry.” She +looked after Blatch as he moved up the road, +then at little Buck, so ashamed of his trembling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +lip. Her face darkened angrily. She turned +slowly to Judith.</p> +<p>“What you gwine to do with that feller, Jude?” +she queried significantly.</p> +<p>“Do? Why, nothin’. He ain’t nothin’ to +me,” responded the girl indifferently.</p> +<p>“He ain’t, hey? Well, he’s bound to marry +ye, honey,” said the older woman.</p> +<p>“Huh, he ain’t the first—and won’t be the last, +I reckon,” assented Judith easily.</p> +<p>“Ye’d better watch out fer that man, Jude,” +persisted Nancy, after a moment’s silence. +“He’ll git ye, yet. I know his kind. He ain’t +a-keerin’ fer yo’ ruthers—whether you want him +or no. He jest aims to have <i>you</i>.”</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon he’ll about have to aim over +agin,” observed the unmoved Judith.</p> +<p>“An’ Elder Drane? Air ye gwine to take +him?—I know he’s done axed ye,” pursued +Nancy hesitantly.</p> +<p>“’Bout ’leven times,” agreed Judith with perfect +seriousness. “No—I wouldn’t have the man, +not ef he’s made of pure gold.” She added +with a sudden little smile and a catch of the +breath: “Them’s awful nice chaps o’ his; I’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +most take him to git them. The baby now—hit’s +the sweetest thing!” And she tumbled +Beezy tumultuously in her lap, then suddenly +inquired, apparently without any volition of +her own, “Aunt Nancy, did you know Creed +Bonbright’s folks?”</p> +<p>“Good Lord, yes!” returned old Nancy. “But +come on inside and set, Jude. This sun ain’t +a-goin’ to dry yo’ skirt. Come in to the fire. +Don’t take that thar cheer, the behime legs is +broke, an’ it’s apt to lay you sprawling. I’ve +knowed Creed Bonbright sence he wasn’t knee-high +to a turkey, and I knowed his daddy afore +him, and his grand-daddy, for the matter of +that.”</p> +<p>Avoiding the treacherous piece of furniture +against which she had been warned, Judith +slipped out of her wet riding-skirt and arranged +it in front of the fire to dry, turning then and +seating herself on the broad hearth at Nancy’s +knee, where she prompted feverishly,</p> +<p>“And is all the Bonbrights moved out of the +neighbourhood?”</p> +<p>The old woman drew a few meditative whiffs +on her pipe. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p> +<p>“All gone,” she nodded; “some of ’em killed +up in the big feud, and some moved away—mostly +to Texas.” Presently she added:</p> +<p>“That there Bonbright tribe is a curious nation +of folks. They’re always after great things, and +barkin’ their shins against rocks in the way. +Creed’s mammy—she was Judge Gillenwaters’s +sister, down in Hepzibah—died when he was no +bigger’n Little Buck, and his pappy never wedded +again. We used to name him and Creed Big +’Fraid and Little ’Fraid; they was always round +together, like a man and his shadder. Then +the feuds broke out mighty bad, and the Blackshearses +got Esher Bonbright one night in a mistake +for some of my kin—or so it was thort. +Anyhow, the man was dead, and Creed lived +with me fer a spell till his uncle down in Hepzibah +wanted him to come and learn to be a lawyer.”</p> +<p>“Lived right here—in this house?” inquired +Judith, looking around her, as she rose and turned +the riding-skirt.</p> +<p>“Lord, yes—why not? You would a-knowed +all about it, only your folks never moved in from +the Fur Cove neighbourhood till the year Creed +went down to the settlement.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>The girl sank back on the hearth, but continued +to gaze about her, and the tell-tale expression +in her eyes seemed to afford Nancy Card +much quiet amusement.</p> +<p>“Do you reckon he’ll live with you again +when he comes back into the mountains?” she +inquired finally.</p> +<p>“I reckon he’ll be weddin’ one of them thar +town gals and fetchin’ a wife home to his own +farm over by yo’ house,” suggested the inveterate +tease.</p> +<p>Judith went suddenly white, and then red. +“You don’t know of anybody—you hain’t +heard he was promised, have you?” she hesitated.</p> +<p>“I ain’t hearn that he was, and I ain’t hearn +that he wasn’t,” returned Nancy serenely. +“The gal that gits Creed Bonbright’ll be doin’ +mighty well; but also she may not find hit right +easy for to trap him. I’ll promise ef he does +come up hyer again I’ll speak a good word for +you, Jude. The Lord knows I don’t see how +you make out to live with that thar old man. +You’ll deserve a crown and a harp o’ gold sot +with diamonds ef you stan’ it much longer.”</p> +<p>Judith put on the now thoroughly dried +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +riding-skirt, and the two women went outside +together.</p> +<p>“Well, good-bye, Aunt Nancy,” she said, as +she led the sorrel nag to the edge of the porch +and made ready to mount. “I’ll be over and +bring the pieces for you to start me out on that +Risin’ Sun quilt a-Wednesday.”</p> +<p>It was late afternoon as she took her homeward +way across the level of the broad mountain-top +to the Turrentine place. She left the main-travelled +road and struck directly into a forest +short-cut. After the rain earth and sky were +newly washed; the clear, sweetened air was full of +the scent of damp loam and new-ploughed fields; +the colours about her were freshened and glad, +and each distant bird-note rang clear and vivid. +To Mrs. Rhody Staggart and her likes at Hepzibah +she might be a crude, awkward country +girl; here she was a princess in her own domain; +and it was a noble realm through which she +moved as she went forward under the great trees +that rose straight and tall from a black soil, making +pillared aisles away from her on every side. +The fern was thick under foot—it would brush +her saddle-girth, come midsummer. Down the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +long vistas under the greening trees, where the +moist air hung thick, her bemused eyes caught the +occasional roseflash of azalea through the pearly +mist, her nostril was greeted by their wandering, +intensely sweet perfume, with its curious undernote +of earth smell.</p> +<p>She smiled vaguely at the first butterfly she +had seen, and again as she noted the earliest +lizard basking in the sun-warmed hollow of a +big rock. Absently her gaze sought for cinnamon +fern in low woods, sweet fern in the thickets, +and exquisite maidenhair just beginning to uncurl +from the black leaf mould of dripping brakes.</p> +<p>Like a woman in a dream she made her progress, +riding through the wonderful stillness of the vast +wild land, an ocean on which each littlest sound +was afloat, so that each was given its true value +almost like a musical tone. An awful, beautiful +silence this, brooding back of every sound; nothing +in such a place gives forth mere senseless noise; +the ripple of frogs in marsh and spring branch +fall upon the sense as sweet as bird-songs. The +clamour of little falls, the solemn suggestion of +wind in the pines, the sweet broken jangle of +cow-bells, a catbird in a tree—a continuous yet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +zigzag sort of warble, silver and sibilant notes +alternating,—the rare wild turkey’s call along +a deeply embowered creek—one by one all these +came to Judith’s dreaming ears, clear, perfect, +individual, on the majestic sea of silence about +her.</p> +<p>She turned Selim’s head at a little intersecting +trail, and rode considerably out of her way to +pass the old Bonbright place and brood upon its +darkened windows and grass-besieged doorstone. +Some day all that would be changed. Still in +her waking dream she unsaddled Selim at the log +barn, and turned him loose in his open pasture. +She laid off her town attire, put on her cotton +working-dress, kindled afresh the fire on the broad +hearthstone and got supper. Her Uncle Jephthah +and Blatch Turrentine came in late, weary from +their work of hauling corn to that destination +which old Nancy had announced as disreputably +indefinite. The second son of the family, Wade, +a man of perhaps twenty-four, was with them, +and had already been told of the mishap to Andy +and Jeff.</p> +<p>Old Jephthah sat at the head of the board, his +black beard falling to his lap, his finely domed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +brow relieved against a background of shadows. +Judith needed the small brass lamp at the hearthstone, +and a tallow candle rather inadequately +lit the supper-table. The corners of the room +were in darkness; only the cloth and dishes, the +faces and hands of those about the table showed +forth in sudden light or motion.</p> +<p>Hung on the rough walls, and glimpsed in +occasional flickers only, were Judith’s big maple +bread-bowl, the churn-dash, spurtle, sedge-broom, +and a round glass bottle for rolling piecrust; cheek +by jowl with old Jephthah’s bullet moulds and +the pot-hooks he had forged for Judith. There +were strings of dried pumpkin, too, and of shining +red peppers. On a low shelf, scarce visible at +all in the dense shadow, stood a keg of sorghum, +and one beside it of vinegar, flanked by the +butter-keeler and the salt piggin with its cedar +staves and hickory hoops. And there, too, was +the broken coffee-pot in which garden seeds were +hoarded.</p> +<p>“What’s all this I hear about Andy and Jeff +bein’ took?” inquired a plaintive voice from the +darkened doorway whose door, with its heavy, +home-made latch, swung back against the wall +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +on its great, rude, wooden hinges, as abruptly +out of the shadow appeared a man who set a plump +hand on either jamb and stared into the room +with a round, white, anxiously inquiring face. +It was Jim Cal, eldest of the sons of Jephthah +Turrentine, married, and living in a cabin a short +distance up the slope. “Who give the information?” +he asked as soon as he had peered all about +the room and found no outsider present.</p> +<p>“Well, we hearn that <i>you</i> did, podner,” jeered +Blatch.</p> +<p>“Come in and set,” invited the head of the +household, with the mountaineer’s unforgetting +hospitality. “Draw up—draw up. Reach and +take off.”</p> +<p>“Well—I—I might,” faltered the fleshy one, +sidling toward the table and getting himself into +a seat. Without further word his father passed +the great dish of fried potatoes, then the platter of +bacon. Judith brought hot coffee and corn pone +for him. She did not sit down with the men, +having quite enough to do to get the meal served.</p> +<p>Unheedingly she heard the matter discussed +at the table; only when Creed Bonbright’s name +came up was she moved to listen and put in her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +word. Something in her manner of describing +the assistance Bonbright offered seemed to go +against Blatch’s grain.</p> +<p>“Got to look out for these here folks that’s +so free with their offers o’ he’p,” he grunted. +“Man’ll slap ye on the back and tell ye what +a fine feller ye air whilst he’s feelin’ for your +pocket-book—that’s town ways.”</p> +<p>The girl was like one hearkening for a finer +voice amid all this distracting noise; she could +hear neither. She made feverish haste to clear +away and wash her dishes, that she might creep +to her own room under the eaves. Through her +open casement came up to her the sounds of the +April night: a heightened chorus of little frogs in +a rain-fed branch; nearer in the dooryard a half-dozen +tree-toads trilling plaintively as many +different minors; with these, scents of growing, +sharpened and sweetened by the dark. And all +night the cedar tree which stood close to the +porch edge below moved in the wind of spring, and, +chafing against the shingles, spoke through the +miniature music in its deep, muffled legato, a soft +baritone note like a man’s voice—a lover’s voice—calling +to her beneath her window. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p> +<p>It roused her from fitful slumbers to happy +waking, when she lay and stared into the dark, +and painted for herself on its sombre background +Creed Bonbright’s figure, the yellow uncovered +head close to her knee as he stood and talked at +the foot of the mountain trail. And the voice +of the tree in the eager spring airs said to her +waiting heart—whispered it softly, shouted and +tossed it abroad so that all might have heard it +had they been awake and known the shibboleth, +murmured it in tones of tenderness that penetrated +her with bliss—that Creed was coming—coming—coming +to her, through the April woods.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='III_SUITORS' id='III_SUITORS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +<h2>Chapter III</h2> +<h3>Suitors</h3> +</div> + +<p>April was in the mountains. All the vast timbered +slopes and tablelands of the Cumberlands +were one golden dapple, as yet differentiated +by darker greens and heavier shadows only where +some group of pine or cedar stood. April in the +Cumberlands is the May or early June of New +England. Here March has the days of shine and +shower; while to February belongs the gusty +turbulence usually attributed to March. Now +sounded the calls of the first whippoorwills in +the dusk of evening; now the first mocking-bird +sang long before day, very sweetly and softly, +and again before moonrise; hours of sun he filled +with bolder rejoicings, condescending in his more +antic humour to mimic the hens that began to +cackle around the barn. Every thicket by the +water-courses blushed with azaleas; all the banks +were gay with wild violets.</p> +<p>Throughout March’s changeful emotional season, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +night after night in those restless vehement +impassioned airs, the cedar tree talked ardently to +Judith. Through April’s softer nights she wakened +often to listen to it. It went fondly over its first +assurances. And the time of Creed Bonbright’s +advent was near at hand now. Thought of it +made light her step as she went about her work.</p> +<p>“Don’t you never marry a lazy man, Jude.”</p> +<p>The wife of Jim Cal Turrentine halted on the +doorstep, a coarse white cup containing the +coffee she had come to borrow poised in her +hand as she turned to harangue the girl in the +kitchen.</p> +<p>“I ain’t aimin’ to wed no man. Huh, I say +marry! I’m not studyin’ about marryin’,” +promptly responded Judith in the mountain girl’s +unfailing formula; but she coloured high, and bent, +pot-hooks in hand, to the great hearth to shift +the clumsy Dutch oven that contained her bread.</p> +<p>“That’s what gals allers says,” commented +Iley Turrentine discontentedly. “Huldy’s forever +singin’ that tune. But let a good-lookin’ +feller come in reach and I ’low any of you will +change the note. Huldy’s took her foot in her +hand and put out—left me with the whole wash +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +to do, and Jim Cal in the bed declarin’ he’s got +a misery in his back. Don’t you never wed a +lazy man.”</p> +<p>“Whar’s Huldy gone?” inquired Judith, sauntering +to the door and looking out on the glad +beauty of the April morning with fond brooding +eyes. The grotesque bow-legged pot-hooks dangled +idly in her fingers.</p> +<p>“Over to Nancy Cyard’s to git her littlest +spinnin’ wheel—so she <i>said</i>. I took notice that +she had a need for that wheel as soon as ever +she hearn tell that Creed Bonbright was up from +Hepzibah stayin’ at the Cyards’s.”</p> +<p>Had not Iley been so engrossed with her own +grievances, the sudden heat of the look Judith +turned upon her must have enlightened her.</p> +<p>“Huldy knowed him right well when she was +waitin’ on table at Miz. Huffaker’s boarding-house +down at Hepzibah,” the woman went on. +“I ain’t got no use for these here fellers that’s +around tendin’ to the whole world’s business—they’ +own chil’en is mighty apt to go hongry. +But thar, what does a gal think of that by the +side o’ curly hair and soft-spoken ways?”</p> +<p>For Judith Barrier at once all the light was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +gone out of the spring morning. The bird in the +Rose of Sharon bush that she had taken for a +thrush—why, the thing cawed like a crow. She +could have struck her visitor. And then, with +an uncertain impulse of gratitude, she was glad +to be told anything about Creed, to be informed +that others knew his hair was yellow and curly.</p> +<p>“Gone?” sounded old Jephthah’s deep tones +from within, as Mrs. Jim Cal made her reluctant +way back to a sick husband and a house full of +work and babies. “Lord, to think of a woman +havin’ the keen tongue that Iley’s got, and her +husband keepin’ fat on it!”</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep,” inquired Judith abruptly, “did +you know Creed Bonbright was at Nancy Card’s—stayin’ +there, I mean?”</p> +<p>“No,” returned the old man, seeing in this +a chance to call at the cabin, where, beneath the +reception that might have been offered an interloper, +even a duller wit than his might have +divined a secret cordial welcome. “I reckon I +better find time to step over that way an’ ax +is there anything I can do to he’p ’em out.”</p> +<p>“I wish ’t you would,” assented Judith so +heartily that he turned and regarded her with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +surprise. “An’ ef you see Huldy over yon tell +her she’s needed at home. Jim Cal’s sick, and +Iley can’t no-way git along without her.”</p> +<p>“I reckon James Calhoun Turrentine ain’t +got nothin’ worse ’n the old complaint that sends +a feller fishin’ when the days gits warm,” opined +Jim Cal’s father. “I named that boy after the +finest man that ever walked God’s green earth—an’ +then the fool had to go and git fat on me! +To think of me with a <i>fat</i> son! I allers did hold +that a fat woman was bad enough, but a fat +man ort p’intedly to be led out an’ killed.”</p> +<p>“Jude, whar’s my knife,” came the call from +the window in a masculine voice. “Pitch it out +here, can’t you?”</p> +<p>Judith took the pocket-knife from the mantel, +and going to the window tossed it to her cousin +Wade Turrentine, who was shaping an axe helve +at the chip pile.</p> +<p>“Do you know whar Huldy’s gone?” she +inquired, setting her elbows on the sill and staring +down at the young fellow accusingly.</p> +<p>“Nope—an’ don’t care neither,” said Wade, +contentedly returning to his whittling. He was +expecting to marry Huldah Spiller, Iley’s younger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +sister, within a few months, and the reply was +thus conventional.</p> +<p>“Well, you’d better care,” urged Judith. +“You better make her stay home and behave +herself. She’s gone over to Nancy Card’s taggin’ +after Creed Bonbright. I wouldn’t stand it ef +I was you.”</p> +<p>“I ain’t standin’—I’m settin’,” retorted Wade +with rather feeble wit; but the girl noted with +satisfaction the quick, fierce spark of anger that +leaped to life in his clear hazel eyes, the instant +stiffening of his relaxed figure. Like a child +playing with fire, she was ready to set alight +any materials that came within reach of her +reckless fingers, so only that she fancied her own +ends might be served. Now she went uneasily +back to the hearthstone. Her uncle, noting +that she appeared engrossed in her baking, gave +a surreptitious glance into the small ancient +mirror standing on the high mantel, made a half-furtive +exchange of coats, and prepared to depart.</p> +<p>Up at the crib Blatch Turrentine was loading +corn, and Jim Cal came creeping across from his +own cabin whence Iley had ejected him. He +stood for a while, humped, hands in pockets, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +watching the other’s strong body spring lithely +to its task. Finally he began in his plaintive, +ineffectual voice.</p> +<p>“Blatch, I take notice that you seem to be +settin’ up to Jude. Do ye think hit’s wise?”</p> +<p>The other grunted over a particularly heavy +sack, swung it to the waggon bed, straightened +himself suddenly, and faced his questioner with a +look of dark anger.</p> +<p>“I’d like to see the feller that can git her away +from me!” he growled.</p> +<p>“I wasn’t a-meanin’ that,” said Jim Cal, +patiently but uneasily shifting from the right +foot to the left. “I’ll admit—an’ I reckon +everybody on the place will say the same—that +she’s always give you mo’ reason than another +to believe she’d have ye. Not but what that’s +Jude’s way, an’ she’s hilt out sech hopes to +a-many. What pesters me is how you two would +make out, once you was wed. Jude’s mighty +pretty, but then again she’s got a tongue.”</p> +<p>“Her farm hain’t,” chuckled Blatch, pulling +a sack into place; “and I ’low Jude wouldn’t +have after her and me had been wed a short +while.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p> +<p>“I don’t know, Blatch,” maintained the fleshy +one, timid yet persisting. “You’re a great +somebody for havin’ yo’ own way, an’ Jude’s +mighty high sperrity—why, you two would +shorely fuss.”</p> +<p>“Not more than once, we wouldn’t,” returned +Blatch with a meaning laugh. “The way to +do with a woman like Jude is to give her a civil +beatin’ to start out with and show her who’s +boss—wouldn’t be no trouble after that. Jude +Barrier has got a good farm. She’s the best +worker of any gal that I know, and I aim for to +have her—an’ this farm.”</p> +<p>Within the house now Judith, her cheeks +glowing crimson as she bent above the heaped +coals, was going with waxing resentment over +the catalogue of Huldah Spiller’s personal characteristics. +Her hair, huh! she was mighty +particular to call it “aurbu’n,” but a body might +as well say red when they were namin’ it, because +red was what it was. If a man admired a turkey +egg he would be likely to see beauty in Huldah’s +complexion—some folks might wear a sunbonnet +to bed, and freckle they would! A vision of the +laughing black eyes and white flashing teeth that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +went with Huldah Spiller’s red ringlets and +freckles, and made her little hatchet face brilliant +when she smiled or laughed, suddenly put Judith +on foot and running to the door.</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep,” she called after the tall receding +form, “<i>Oh</i>, Uncle Jep!”</p> +<p>He turned muttering, “I hope to goodness +Jude ain’t goin’ to git the hollerin’ habit. There’s +Iley never lets Jim Cal git away from the house +without hollerin’ after him as much as three times, +and the thing he’d like least to have knowed +abroad is the thing she takes up with for the +last holler.”</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep,” came the clear hail from the +doorway, “don’t you fail to find Huldy and send +her straight home. Tell her Iley’s nigh about +give out, and Jim Cal’s down sick in the bed—hear +me?”</p> +<p>He nodded and turned disgustedly. What +earthly difference did it make about Jim Cal and +Huldah and Iley? Why should Judith suddenly +care? And then, being a philosopher and in his +own manner an amateur of life, he set to work +to analyze her motives, and guessed obliquely +at them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></p> +<p>The sight of his broad, retreating back evidently +spurred Judith to fresh effort. “Uncle +Jep!” she screamed, cupping her hands about +her red lips to make the sound carry. “Ef +you see Creed Bonbright tell him—howdy—for +me!”</p> +<p>The sound may not have carried to the old +man’s ears, but it reached a younger pair. Blatch +Turrentine was just crossing through the grassy +yard toward the “big road,” and Broyles’s mill +over on Clear Fork, where his load of corn would +be ground to meal with which to feed that blockaded +still on the old Turrentine place which +sometimes flung a delicate trail of smoke out +over the flank of the slope across the gulch. As +he heard Judith’s bantering cry, Blatch pulled +up his team with a muttered curse. He looked +down at her through narrowed eyes, jerking his +mules savagely and swearing at them in an +undertone. He was a well-made fellow with a +certain slouching grace about him as he sat on his +load of corn; but there were evil promising bumps +on either side of his jaws that spoke of obstinacy, +even of ferocity; and there was something menacing +in his surly passivity of attitude. He looked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +at the girl and his lip lifted with a peculiar +sidelong sneer.</p> +<p>“Holler a little louder an’ Bonbright hisself’ll +hear ye,” he commented as he started up his +team and rattled away down the steep, stony +road.</p> +<p>Sunday brought its usual train of visitors. The +Turrentine place was within long walking distance +of Brush Arbor church, and whenever there was +preaching they could count on a considerable +overflow from that direction. The Sunday after +Creed Bonbright put in an appearance at Nancy +Card’s, there was preaching at Brush Arbor, but +Judith, nourishing what secret hopes may be conjectured, +refused to make any preparation for +attending service.</p> +<p>“An’ ye think ye won’t go to meeting this fine +sunshiny Sabbath mornin’, Sister Barrier?” Elder +Drane put the query, standing anxious and +carefully attired in his best before Judith on the +doorstep of her home.</p> +<p>She shook her dark head, and looked past the +Elder toward the distant ranges.</p> +<p>“I jest p’intedly cain’t git away this morning,” +she said carelessly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></p> +<p>The Elder combed his sandy whiskers with +a thoughtful forefinger. Not thus had Judith +been wont to reply to him. Always before, if +there had been denial, there were too, reasons +adduced, shy looks from the corners of those +dark eyes and tender inquiries as to the health +of his children.</p> +<p>“Is they—is they some particular reason that +you cain’t go this morning?” the widower inquired +cautiously.</p> +<p>There was, and that particular reason lay as +far afield as the Edge and Nancy Card’s place, +but Judith Barrier did not see fit to name it to +this one of her suitors, who had brought her +perhaps more glory than any other. She was +impatient to be rid of him. Like her mother +Earth, having occupied her time for lo! these +several years in the building of an ideal from +such unpromising materials as were then at hand, +she was ready to sweep those tentative makings—confessed +failures now that she found the type +she really wanted—swiftly, ruthlessly to the +limbo of oblivion.</p> +<p>Elihu Drane stood high among his neighbours; +he was a man of some education as well as comfortable +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +means. His attention had been worth +retaining once; now she smiled at him with a +vague, impersonal sweetness, and repeated her +statement that she couldn’t go to church.</p> +<p>“I’ve got too much to do,” she qualified +finally. “Looks like the work in this house +never is finished. And there’s chicken and dumplin’s +to cook for dinner.”</p> +<p>The Elder’s pale blue eyes brightened. “Walk +down to the gate with me, won’t you?” he said +hopefully, “I’ve got somethin’ to talk to you +about.”</p> +<p>When they were out of earshot of the house, +he began eagerly, “Sister Barrier you’re workin’ +yourse’f to death here, in the sweet days of your +youth. I did promise the last time that I never +would beg you again to wed me, but looks like +I can’t stand by and hold my peace. If you +was to trust yourse’f to me things would be +different. I never did hold with a woman killin’ +herse’f with hard work. My first and second +had everything that they could wish for, and I +was good and ready to do more any time they +named what it was. I’ve got a crank churn. +None of these old back-breaking, up-and-down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +dashers for me. I hired a woman whenever my +wife said the word. I don’t think either of mine +ever killed a chicken or cut a stick of firewood +from the time they walked in the front door as +a bride till they was carried out of it in their +coffins.”</p> +<p>He stared eagerly into the downcast face beside +him, but somewhere Judith found strength to +resist even these dazzling propositions.</p> +<p>“I ain’t studyin’ about gittin’ wedded,” she +told him most untruthfully. “Looks like I’m +a mighty cold-hearted somebody, Elder Drane. +I jest can’t fix it no way but to live here with my +Uncle Jep and take care of him in his old days. +Oh, would you wait a minute?” as they reached +the horse-block and the Elder began to untie his +mount with a discouraged countenance. “Jest +let me run back to the house—I won’t keep you +a second. I got some little sugar cookies for +Mart and Lucy.”</p> +<p>Mart and Lucy were the Elder’s children. He +stood looking after her as she ran lithely up the +path, and wondered why she could love them +so much and him so little. She came back +laughing and a bit out of breath. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></p> +<p>“I expect we’ll have company to-day,” she +told him comfortably. “We always do when +there’s preaching at the church, and I ’low I’d +better stay home and see to the dinner.”</p> +<p>The Elder had scarcely made his chastened +adieux when the Lusk girls came through the +grove walking on either side of a young man.</p> +<p>The Lusk girls were Judith’s nearest neighbours—if +you excepted Huldah Spiller at Jim Cal’s +cabin, and at the present Judith certainly was +in the mind to make an exception of her. The +sisters were seldom seen apart; narrow shouldered, +short waisted, thin limbed young creatures, they +were even at seventeen bowing to a deprecating +stoop. Their little faces were alike, short-chinned +with pink mouths inclined to be tremulous, the +eyes big, blue, and half-frightened in expression, +and the drab hair drawn away from the small +foreheads so tightly that it looked almost grey. +They inevitably reminded one of a pair of blue +and white night-moths, scarcely fitted for a daylight +world, and continually afraid of it.</p> +<p>“Cousin Lacey’s over from the Far Cove,” +called Pendrilla before they reached Judith. +“Ain’t it fine? Ef we-all can git up a play-party +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +he says he’ll shore come ef we let him know in +time.”</p> +<p>The young fellow with them, their cousin +Lacey Rountree, showed sufficient resemblance +to mark the family type, but his light eyes were +lit with reckless fires, and his short chin was carried +with a defiant tilt.</p> +<p>“What you foolin’ along o’ that old feller for, +Judith?” he asked jerking an irreverent thumb +after the departing Elder.</p> +<p>“I wasn’t fooling with him,” returned Judith, +her red lips demure, her brown eyes laughing +above them through their thick fringe of lashes. +“Elder Drane was consulting me about church +matters—sech as children like you have no call +to meddle with.”</p> +<p>Young Rountree smiled, “I’ll bet he was!” +picking up a stone and firing it far into the blue +in sheer exuberance of youthful joy. “Did he +name anything about a weddin’ in church?”</p> +<p>“Elder Drane is a mighty fine man,” asserted +Judith, suddenly sober. “Any gal might be +glad to git him. But its my belief and opinion +that his heart is buried with his first—or his +second,” and she laughed out suddenly at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +unintentional humorous conclusion she had made.</p> +<p>“See here, Jude,” the boy put it boldly as the +four young people strolled toward the house, +“you’re too pretty and sweet to be anybody’s +thirdly. Next time old man Drane comes pesterin’ +round you, you tell him that you’re promised +to me—hear?”</p> +<p>Again Judith laughed. It is impossible to +talk seriously to a boy with whom one has played +hat-ball and prisoner’s base, whose hair one has +pulled, and who has, in retort courteous, rolled +one in the dust.</p> +<p>“I’m in earnest if I ever was in my life,” +asserted Lacey, taking it quite as a matter of +course that Cliantha and Pendrilla should be +made party to his courting.</p> +<p>And the two little old maids of seventeen looked +with wondering admiration at Judith’s management +of all this masculine attention—her careless, +discounting smile for their swaggering young +cousin, her calm acceptance of imposing Elder +Drane’s humble and persistent wooing.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IV_BUILDING' id='IV_BUILDING'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +<h2>Chapter IV</h2> +<h3>Building</h3> +</div> + +<p>Judith awakened that morning with the song +of the first thrush sounding in her ears. Day +was not yet come, but she knew instantly it was +near dawn, so soon as she heard the keen, cool, +unmatched thrush voice. Not elaborate the song +like the bobolink, nor passionate like the nightingale, +nor with the bravura of the oriole; but +low or loud, its pure tones are always penetrating, +piercing the heart of their hearer with exquisite +sweetness.</p> +<p>The girl lay long in the dark listening, and it +seemed to her half awakened consciousness that +this voice in the April dawn was like Creed Bonbright. +These notes, lucid, passionless, that yet +always stirred her heart strangely, and the selfless +personality, the high-purposed soul that +spoke in him, they were akin. The crystal tones +flowed on; Judith harkened, the ear of her spirit +alert for a message. Yes, Creed was like that. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +And her feeling for him too, it partook of the +same quality, a thing to climb toward rather than +concede.</p> +<p>And then after all her tremulous hopes, her +plannings, the dozen times she had taken a certain +frock from its peg minutely inspecting and repairing +it, that it might be ready for wear on the +great occasion, the first meeting with Creed +found Judith unprepared, happening in no wise +as she would have chosen. She was at the milking +lot, clad in the usual dull blue cotton gown in +which the mountain woman works. She had +filled her two pails and set them on the high bench +by the fence while she turned the calves into the +small pasture reserved for them and let old Red +and Piedy out.</p> +<p>He approached across the fields from the direction +of his own house, and naturally saw her before +she observed him. It was early morning. The +sky was blue and wide and high, with great +shining piles of white cloud swimming lazily at the +horizon, cutting sharply against its colour. Around +the edges of the cow-lot peach trees were all in +blossom and humming with bees, their rich, +amethystine rose flung up against the gay April +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +sky in a challenge of beauty and joy. The air +was full of the promises of spring, keen, bracing, +yet with an undercurrent of languorous warmth. +There was a ragged fleece of bloom, sweet and +alive with droning insects, over a plum thicket +near the woods,—half-wild, brambly things, cousin +on the one hand to the cultivated farm, and on the +other to the free forest,—while beyond, through +the openings of the timber, dogwood flamed white +in the sun.</p> +<p>Judith came forward and greeted the newcomer, +all unaware of the picture she made, tall +and straight and pliant in her simple blue cotton, +under the wonderful blue-and-white sky and the +passionate purple pink of the blossoms, with the +scant folds of her frock outlining the rounded +young body, its sleeves rolled up on her fine arms, +its neck folded away from the firm column of her +throat, the frolic wind ruffling the dark locks +above her shadowy eyes. There were strange +gleams in those dark eyes; her red lips were +tremulous whether she spoke or not. It was +as though she had some urgent message for him +which waited always behind her silence or her +speech. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></p> +<p>“I thought I’d come over and get acquainted +with my neighbours,” Bonbright began in his impersonal +fashion.</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep and the boys has gone across to +the far place ploughing to-day,” said Judith. +“They’s nobody at home but Jim Cal and his +wife—and me.” She forebore to add the name of +Huldah Spiller, though her angry eye descried +that young woman ostentatiously hanging wash +on a line back of the Jim Cal cabin.</p> +<p>“I won’t stop then this morning,” said Bonbright. +“I’ll get along over to the far place. I +wanted to have speech with your uncle. He was +at Aunt Nancy’s the other day and we had some +talk; he knows more about what I’m aiming at up +here then I do. A man of his age and good sense +can be a sight of help to me.”</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep will be proud to do anything he +can,” said Judith softly. “Won’t you come in +and set awhile?”</p> +<p>She dreaded that the invitation might hurry +him away, and now made hasty use of the first +diversion that offered. He had broken a blooming +switch from the peach-tree beneath which he +stood, and she reproached him fondly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span></p> +<p>“Look at you. Now there won’t never be no +peaches where them blossoms was.”</p> +<p>He twisted the twig in his fingers and smiled +down at her, conscious of a singular and personal +kindness between them, aware too, for the first +time, that she was young, beautiful, and a woman; +before, she had been merely an individual to him.</p> +<p>“My mother used to say that to me when I +would break fruit blows,” he said meditatively. +“But father always pruned his trees when they +were in blossom—they can’t any of them bear +a peach for every bloom.”</p> +<p>She shook her head as though giving up the +argument, since it was after all a matter of sentiment. +Her dark, rich-coloured beauty glowed +its contrast to his cool, northern type.</p> +<p>At present neither spoke more than a few +syllables of the spiritual language of the other, +yet so powerful was the attraction between them +that even Creed began to feel it, while Judith, +the primitive woman, all given over to instinct, +promptly laid about her for something to hold +and interest him.</p> +<p>“The young folks is a-goin’ to get up a play-party +at our house sometime soon,” she hazarded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +“I reckon you wouldn’t come to any such as +that, would you?”</p> +<p>“I’d be proud to come,” returned Creed at +once. But he spoiled it by adding, “I’ve got +to get acquainted with people all over again, it’s +so long since I lived here; and looks like I’m not +a very good mixer.”</p> +<p>“Will you sure come?” inquired Judith insistently, +as she saw him preparing to depart.</p> +<p>“I sure will.”</p> +<p>“You could stay over night in your own house +then—ain’t you comin’ back, ever, to live there?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes, I reckon I might stay there over +night, but it’s too far from the main road for a +justice’s office.”</p> +<p>“Well, if you’re going to try to sleep in the +house, it ort to be opened up and sunned a little; +you better let me have the key now,” observed +Judith, assuming airs of proprietorship over his +inept masculinity.</p> +<p>Smiling, he got the key from his pocket and +handed it to her. “Help yourself to anything +you want for the party, or any other time,” he +said in mountain fashion.</p> +<p>She looked down at that key with the pride of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +one to whom had been given the freedom of a +city. Its possession enabled her to bear it with +a fair degree of equanimity when Huldah Spiller, +having “jest slung her clothes anyway onto that +line,” as Judith phrased it to herself, came panting +and laughing across the slope between the two +houses and called a gay “Howdy!” to the visitor. +The lively little red haired flirt professed greatly +to desire news of certain persons in Hepzibah, +and as Creed was departing sauntered unconcernedly +beside him as far as the draw-bars, +detaining him in conversation there as long as +possible. She had an instinctive knowledge that +Judith, looking on, was deeply disturbed.</p> +<p>Creed set his justice’s office about a hundred +yards from Nancy Card’s cabin, on the main +road that led through the two Turkey Track +neighbourhoods out to Rainy Gap and the Far +Cove settlement. The little shack was built of +the raw yellow boards which the new saw-mill +was ripping out of pine trees over on the shoulder +of Big Turkey Track above Garyville. Most +of the mountain dwellers still preferred log houses, +and the lumber was sent down the mountain by +means of a little gravity railway, whose car was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +warped up after each trip by a patient old mule +working in a circular treadmill.</p> +<p>God knows with what high hopes the planks of +that humble shanty were put in place, with what +visions sill and window-frame were shaped and +joined, Aunt Nancy going out and in at her household +tasks calling good counsel over to him; +Beezy, the irrepressible, adding shaving curls to +her red frazzle; Little Buck, furnished with +hammer and tacks, gravely assisting, pounding +his fingers only part of the time. Hens were +coming off. Old Nancy had a great time with +notionate mothers hatching out broods under +the floor or in the stable loft, and the plaintive +cheep-cheep! of the “weedies” added its note to +the chorus of sounds as the children followed +them about, now and then catching up a ball of +fluff to pet it, undeterred by indignant clucks +from the parent.</p> +<p>As Creed whistled over his work, he saw a +shadowy train coming down the road, the people +whom he should help, his people, to whose darkness +he should bring light and counsel. They knew +so little, and needed so much. True, his own +knowledge was not great; but it was all freely at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +their service. His heart swelled with good-will +as he prepared to open his modest campaign of +usefulness.</p> +<p>To come into leadership naturally a man should +be the logical outgrowth of his class and time, +and this Creed knew he was not. Yet he had +pondered the matter deeply, and put it thus to +himself: The peasant of Europe can only rise +through stages of material prosperity to a point +of development at which he craves intellectual +attainment, or spiritual growth. But the mountaineer +is always a thinker; he has even in his +poverty a hearty contempt for luxury, for material +gain at the expense of personality. With his +disposition to philosophy, fostered by solitude +and isolation, he readily overleaps those gradations, +and would step at once from obscurity +to the position of a man of culture were the +means at hand.</p> +<p>“Bonbright,” remonstrated Jephthah Turrentine, +in the first conversation the two held upon +the subject, “Ye cain’t give people what they +ain’t ready to take. Ef our folks wanted law +and order, don’t you reckon they’d make the +move to get it?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p> +<p>“That’s it exactly, Mr. Turrentine,” responded +Creed quickly. “They need to be +taught what to want.”</p> +<p>“Oh, they do, do they?” inquired Jephthah with +a humorous twitch of the lips. “Well, ef you’re +a-goin’ to set up to teach, hadn’t you better +have a school-house, place of a jestice’s office?”</p> +<p>“Maybe you’re right. I reckon you are—exactly +right,” Creed assented thoughtfully. +“I’d studied about that considerable. I reckon +I’m a more suitable age for a schoolmaster than +for a justice; and the children—but that would +take a long time; and I wanted to give the help +where it was worst needed.”</p> +<p>“Oh, well, ’tain’t a hangin’ matter,” old +Jephthah smiled at the younger man’s solemn +earnestness. “Ef this new fangled buildin’ o’ +yours don’t get used for a jestice’s office we can +turn it into a school-house; we need one powerful +bad.”</p> +<p>The desultory, sardonic, deep-voiced, soft-footed, +mountain carpenters who worked leisurely +and fitfully with Creed were always mightily +amused by the exactness of the “town feller’s” +ideas. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></p> +<p>“Why lordy! Lookee hyer Creed,” remonstrated +Doss Provine, over a question of matching +boards and battening joints, “ef you git yo’ pen +so almighty tight as that you won’t git no fresh +air. Man’s bound to have ventilation. Course +you can leave the do’ open all the time like we-all +do; but when yo’re a-holdin’ co’t and sech-like +maybe you’ll want to shet the do’ sometimes—and +then whar’ll ye git breath to breathe?”</p> +<p>“I reckon Creed knows his business,” put in +the old man who was helping Doss, “but all these +here glass winders is blame foolishness to <i>me</i>. +Ef ye need light, open the do’. Ef somebody +comes that you don’t want in, you can shet +it and put up a bar. But saw the walls full +o’ holes an’ set in glass winders, an’ any feller +that’s got a mind to can pick ye off with a rifle +ball as easy as not whilst ye set by the fire of a +evenin’.”</p> +<p>He shook a reprehending head, hoary with the +snows of years, and containing therefore, presumably, +wisdom. He had learned the necessary +points of life in his environment, and as always +occurs, the younger generation seemed to him +lavishly reckless. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></p> +<p>It was only old Jephthah’s criticisms that +Creed really minded.</p> +<p>“Uh-huh,” allowed Jephthah, settling his +hands on his hips and surveying the yellow pine +structure tolerantly; “mighty sightly for them +that likes that kind o’ thing. But I hold with +a good log house, becaze it’s apt to be square. +These here town doin’s that looks like a man +with a bile on his ear never did ketch me. Ef ye +hew out good oak or pine timber ye won’t be +willin’ to cut short lengths for to make such +foolishness.”</p> +<p>Creed would often have explained to his critics +that he did not expect to get into feuds and have +neighbours pot-hunting him through his glass +windows, that he needed the light from them to +study or read, and that his little house was as +square as any log hut ever constructed; but they +lumped it all together and made an outsider of +him—which hurt.</p> +<p>Word went abroad to the farthest confines of +the Turkey Track neighbourhoods, carried by +herders who took sheep, hogs, or cows up into +the high-hung inner valleys of Yellow Old Bald, +or the natural meadows of Big Turkey Track to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +turn them loose for the season, recited where one +or two met out salting cattle, discussed by many +a chip pile, where the willing axe rested on the +unsplit block while the wielder heard how Creed +Bonbright had done sot up a jestice’s office and +made peace between the Shallidays and the +Bushareses.</p> +<p>“But you know in reason hit ain’t a-goin’ to +hold,” the old women at the hearthside would +say, withdrawing their cob pipes to shake deprecating +heads. “The Bushareses and Shallidays +has been killin’ each other up sence my +gran’pap was a little boy. They tell me the Injuns +mixed into that there feud. I say Creed +Bonbright! Nothin’ but a fool boy. He better +l’arn something before he sets up to teach. He +don’t know what he’s meddlin’ with.” All this +with a pride in the vendetta as an ancient neighbourhood +institution and monument.</p> +<p>The office of the new justice never became, as +he had hoped it would, a lounging place for his +passing neighbours. He had expected them to +drop in to visit with him, when he might sow +the good seed in season without appearing to seek +an occasion for so doing. But they were shy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +of him—he saw that. They went on past the +little yellow pine office, on their mules, or their +sorry nags, or in shackling waggons behind oxen, +to lounge at Nancy Card’s gate as of old, or sit +upon her porch to swap news and listen to her +caustic comments on neighbourhood happenings. +And only an occasional glance over the shoulder, +a backward nod of the head, or jerk of the thumb, +told the young justice that he was present in +their recollection.</p> +<p>But there was one element of the community +which showed no disposition to hold aloof from +the newcomer. About this time, by twos and +threes—never one alone—the virgins of the +mountain-top sought Nancy Card for flower seed, +soft soap recipes, a charm to take off warts, or +to learn exactly from her at what season a body +had better divide the roots of day lilies.</p> +<p>Old-fashioned roses begin blooming in the +Cumberlands about the first of May, and when +this time came round Nancy’s garden was a +thing to marvel at. The spring flowers were past +or nearly so, and the advent of the roses marked +the floral beginning of summer. In the forest +the dogwood petals now let go and fell silently +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +one by one through the shadowed green. But +over Nancy’s fence of weather-beaten, hand-rived +palings tossed a snow of bloom so like that here +they were not missed at all; and the mock orange +adds to the dogwood’s simple beauty the soul of +an exquisite odour. Small, heavily thorned roses, +yellow as the daffodils they had succeeded, blushing +Baltimore Belles, Seven Sisters all over the +ricketty porch—one who loved such things might +well have taken a day’s journey for sight of that +dooryard in May.</p> +<p>“Well, I vow!” said the old woman one day +peering through her window that gave on the +road, “ef here don’t come Huldy Spiller and the +two Lusks. Look like to me I have a heap of +gal company of late. Creed, you’re a mighty +learned somebody, cain’t you tell me the whys +of it?”</p> +<p>Creed, sitting at a little table deep in some +books and papers before him, heard no word of +his friend’s teasing speech. It was Doss Provine, +at the big fireplace heating a poker to burn a hole +through his pulley-wheel, who turned toward his +mother-in-law and grinned foolishly.</p> +<p>“I reckon I know the answer to that,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +observed. “The boys is all a warnin’ me that a +widower is mo’ run after than a young feller. +They tell me I’ll have to watch out.”</p> +<p>“I say watch out—<i>you</i>!” cried Nancy, wheeling +upon him with a comically disproportionate fury. +“Jest you let me ketch you settin’ up to any of the +gals—you, a father with two he’pless chaps to +look after, and nobody but an old woman like +me, with one foot in the grave, to depend on!”</p> +<p>There was one girl however who, instead of +multiplying her visits to the Card cabin with +Creed’s advent, abruptly ceased them. Judith +Barrier was an uncertain quantity to her masculine +household; unreasonably elated or depressed, +she led them the round of her moods, and they +paid for the fact that Creed Bonbright did not +come across the mountain top visiting, without +being at all aware of where their guilt lay. After +that interview at the milking lot one thought, one +emotion was with her always. Always she was +waiting for the next meeting with Creed. Through +the day she heard his voice or his footstep in all +the little sounds of the woods, the humble noises +of the farm life; and at night there was the cedar +tree. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></p> +<p>Now the cedar tree had affairs of its own. +When, with the egotism of her keen, passionate, +desirous youth, the girl in the little chamber under +the eves listened to its voice in April, it was +talking in the soft air of the vernal night about +the sap which rose in its veins, spicy, resinous, +odoured with spring, carrying its wine of life into +the farthest green tips, till all the little twigs were +intoxicated with it, and beat and flung themselves +in joy. And the tree’s deep note was a song of +abiding trust. There was a nest building within +its heart—so well hidden in that dense thicket +that it was safe from the eye of any prowler. +Hope and faith and a great devotion went to the +building. And the tree, rich and happy in its +own life, cherished generously that other life +within its protecting arms. Its song was of the +mating birds, the building birds, the mother joy +and father joy that made the nest ready for the +speckled eggs and the birdlings that should follow.</p> +<p>But to the listening girl the cedar tree was a +harp that the winds struck—a voice that spoke +in the night of love and Creed.</p> +<p>Finally one morning she saddled Selim and, with +something in her pocket for Little Buck and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +Beezy, set out for Hepzibah—reckon they’s +nothin’ so turrible strange in a body goin’ to the +settlement when they’ out o’ both needles <i>an</i>’ +bakin’ soda!</p> +<p>As she rode up Nancy herself called to her to +’light and come in, and finally went out to stand +a moment and chat; but the girl smilingly shook +her head.</p> +<p>“I got to be getting along, thank ye,” she said. +“I can’t stop this mornin’. You-all must come +and see us, Aunt Nancy.”</p> +<p>“Why, what’s Little Buck a-goin’ to do, with +his own true love a-tearin’ past the house like +this and refusin’ to stop and visit?” complained +Nancy, secretly applauding the girl’s good sense +and dignity.</p> +<p>“Where <i>is</i> my beau?” asked Judith. “I +fetched him the first June apples off the tree.”</p> +<p>“Judy’s brought apples to her beau, and now +he’s went off fishin’ with Doss and she’s got +nobody to give ’em to,” old Nancy called as +Creed stepped from the door of his office and +started across to the cabin. “Don’t you want +’em, Creed?”</p> +<p>The tall, fair young fellow came up laughing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span></p> +<p>“Aunt Nancy knows I love apples,” he said. +“If you give me Little Buck’s share I’m afraid +he’ll never see ’em.”</p> +<p>Judith reached in her pocket and brought out +the shiny, small red globes and put them in his +outstretched hand.</p> +<p>“I’ll bring Little Buck a play-pretty from the +settlement,” she said softly. “He’ll keer a +sight more for hit than for the apples. I wish +I’d knowed you liked ’em—I’d brought you +more. Why don’t you come over and see us +and git all you want? We’ve got two trees of +’em.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='V_THE_RED_ROSE_AND_THE_BRIAR' id='V_THE_RED_ROSE_AND_THE_BRIAR'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +<h2>Chapter V</h2> +<h3>The Red Rose and the Briar</h3> +</div> + +<p>ALL through April Judith’s project of a play-party +languished. She had to pull steadily +against the elders, for not only were the men hard +at it making ready for the putting in of the year’s +crops, but it was gardening time as well, when +even the women and children are pressed in to +help at the raking up and brush piling. Wood +smoke from the clearing fires haunted all the +hollows. Everybody was preparing for the making +of the truck patch. Down on the little +groups would drop a cloud and blot out the +bonfire till it became the mere glowing point at +the heart of a shaken opal—for if you are wise +you burn brush on a rainy day.</p> +<p>Old Jephthah opposed the plan for the girl’s +festivity on another ground. “I’ve got no +objection to a frolic, Jude,” he observed quietly, +on hearing the first mention of the matter, “but +I wouldn’t have no play-party at this house. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +Hit’s too handy to that cussed still of Blatch’s. +A passel of fool boys is mighty apt to go over +thar an’ fill theirselves up with corn whiskey, an’ +the party will just about end up in a interruption.”</p> +<p>He said no more, and Judith made no reply. +Though ordinarily she would have hesitated to go +against her uncle’s expressed wishes, her heart +was too much set on this enterprise to allow of +easy checking. She made no reply, but her +campaign on behalf of the merrymaking went +steadily on.</p> +<p>“I wonder you can have the heart to git up +play-parties and the like when Andy and Jeff’s +a-sufferin’ in the jail,” Pendrilla Lusk plucked +up spirit to say when the plan was first mooted +to her.</p> +<p>Andy and Jeff, the wild young hawks, with +the glamour upon them of lawless, adventurous +spirits, and bold, proper lovers, equally fascinated +and terrified the Lusk girls—timid, fluttering +pair—and were in their turn attracted to them +by an inevitable law of nature.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how it hurts the boys for us to +have a dance,” rejoined Judith with asperity. +“If we was all to set and cry our eyes out, it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +wouldn’t fetch ’em back on the mountain any +quicker.” Then with a teasing flash, “I’ll +tell ’em when they git home what you said, +though.”</p> +<p>“Now, Jude, you’re real mean,” pleaded +Cliantha Lusk sinking to her knees beside Judith +and raising thin little arms to clasp that young +woman around the waist. “You ain’t a-goin’ to +tell them fool boys any sech truck as that, air +ye? Pendrilly jest said it for a sayin’. We’d +love to come to yo’ play-party, whenever it is. +I <i>say</i> Andy and Jeff! Let ’em git out of the jail +the way they got in.”</p> +<p>This is the approved attitude of the mountain +virgin; yet Cliantha’s voice shook sadly as she +uttered the independent sentiments, and Pendrilla +furtively wiped her eyes in promising to +attend the play-party.</p> +<p>All this was in April. By the time May came +in, that dread of a belated frost which amounts +almost to terror in the farmer of the Cumberlands +was ended; the Easter cold and blackberry +winter were over, and all the garden truck was +planted. Everybody began whole-heartedly to +enjoy the time of year. The leaves were full +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +size, but still soft; the wind made hardly any +noise among them. In the pasture lot and fence +corners near the house, meadow flowers began to +star the green. The frog chorus, so loud and +jubilant in early spring, had subsided now except +at night, when their treble was accompanied by +the bass “chug-chug” of the bull-frogs. The mornings +were vocal with the notes of yellow hammer, +cuckoos; the cooing of doves, the squawk of the +jay, and the drum of the big red-headed woodpecker +sounded through the summer woods; while +always in the cool of the day came the thrush’s +song. The early corn was in by mid April. +About the first full moon of May the main +crop was planted.</p> +<p>Early in June Judith, walking in the wood, +brought home the splendid red wood lily, and a +cluster too of “ratsbane,” with its flowers like a +little crown of white wax.</p> +<p>The spring restlessness was over throughout +all the wild country; life no longer stirred and +rustled; the leaves hung still in the long sunny +noons. The air was clear, rinsed with frequent +showers; the woods were silent except for birds +and cow bells. The crops were laid by. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +huckleberries ripened; the “sarvices” hung thick +in the forest. Even the blackberries were beginning +to turn and Andy and Jeff had been +back at home more than a week, when Judith +finally succeeded in getting her forces together and +her guests promised. Many of them would have +to walk four or five miles to sing and play for a few +hours, tramping back at midnight to lie down and +catch what sleep they could before dawn waked +them to another day of toil. Thursday evening +was set for the event. On Wednesday the Lusk +girls coming in to discuss, found Judith with +shining eyes and crimson cheeks, attacking the +simple housework of the cabin.</p> +<p>“I wish’t you’d sing while I finish my churnin’,” +the girl said, “I’m so flustered looks like I can’t +sca’cely do anything right.”</p> +<p>The sisters clasped hands and raised their +childish faces. Cliantha had a thin, high piping +soprano like a small flute, and Pendrilla sang +“counter” to it. They were repositories of all +the old ballads of the mountains—ballads from +Scotland, from Ireland, from England, and from +Wales, that set the ferocities and the love-making +of Elizabeth’s time or earlier most quaintly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +amidst the localities and nomenclature of the +Cumberlands.</p> +<p>“Sing ‘Barb’ry Allen,’” commanded Judith as +she swung the dasher with nervous energy.</p> +<p>The July sunshine filtered through the leaves +of the big muscadine vine that covered and sheltered +the tiny side porch. Bees boomed about +the ragged tufts of clover and Bouncing Bet +that fringed the side yard. The old hound at +the chip pile blinked lazily and raised his head, +then dropped it and slumbered again. Within, +the big room was dim and cool. The high, thin, +quavering voices celebrated the love and woe of +cruel Barbara Allen. Judith’s dark eyes grew +soft and brooding; the nervous strokes of her +dasher measured themselves more and more to +the swing of the old tune.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how anybody can be hardhearted +thataway with a person they love,” she +said softly as the song descended to its doleful end.</p> +<p>The next morning Judith hurried her work +that she might get through and go over to the +Bonbright house, there to put in execution her +long-cherished plan of cleaning it and making +it fit for Creed’s occupancy that night. Old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +Dilsey Rust, their tenant, came in to help at the +Turrentine cabin always on occasions like this, +or with the churning or washing; and penetrated +with impatience the girl finally left her assistant +in charge of matters and set forth through the +woods and across the fields, the little key which +she had carried ever since that morning in early +April in her pocket like a talisman. At last it +was to open her kingdom to her. Behind the bolt +that it controlled lay not only the home of Creed’s +childhood, but supposably the home of his +children. Judith’s heart beat suffocatingly at +the thought.</p> +<p>Halfway across she met Huldah Spiller coming +up from the Far spring with a bucket of sulphur +water which was held to be good for Jim Cal’s +rheumatism.</p> +<p>“Whar ye goin’?” asked Huldah, looking +curiously at the broom over Judith’s shoulder, the +roll of cloths and the small gourd of soft soap she +carried.</p> +<p>“I’m a-goin’ whar I’m a-goin’,” returned +Judith aggressively. But the other only smiled. +It did not suit her to be offended at that moment. +Instead, “What are you goin’ to wear to-night, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +Judy?” she inquired vivaciously. It was one +of the advantages of waiting on table at a boarding +house in the settlement—pieced out perhaps +by the possession of red hair—that Huldah +had the courage to address Judith Barrier as +“Judy.”</p> +<p>The hostess of the evening’s festivities was half +in the mind to pass on without reply; then her +curiosity as to Huldah’s costume got the better +of her, and she compromised, with a laconic,</p> +<p>“My white frock—what are you?”</p> +<p>“Don’t you know I went down to Hepzibah +after you said you was goin’ to have a play-party?” +asked Huldah, tossing her head to get +the red curls out of her eyes. “Well, Iley had +give me fifty cents on my wages—” Huldah +worked as a servant in her sister’s family, which +is not uncommon in the mountains—“an’ I tuck +it and bought me ten yard of five-cent lawn, the +prettiest blue you ever put yo’ eyes on.”</p> +<p>“Blue!” A sudden shock went over Judith. +She had forgotten; and here Huldah Spiller would +wear a blue dress, and she—oh, the stupidity, +the bat-like, doltish, blindness of it!—would be in +white, because it was now too late to make a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +change. Out of the very tragedy of the situation +she managed to pluck forth a smile.</p> +<p>“I was aimin’ to wear blue ribbons,” she said +finally. It had just come into her head that she +could pull the blue bow from her hat—that blue +bow with which she had zealously replaced the +despised and outcast red—and so make shift.</p> +<p>“Blue’s my best feller’s favourite colour,” contributed +Huldah, picking up the bucket which +she had set down, and starting on. “He ’lows +it goes fine with aurbu’n hair.”</p> +<p>“Wade never said that,” muttered Judith to +herself as she took her way to the Bonbright place.</p> +<p>But after all one could not be long out of tune +with such a summer day. The spicy odour of +pennyroyal bruised underfoot, came to her +nostrils like incense. Even the sickly sweet of +jimson blossoms by the draw-bars of the milking +lot was dear and familiar, while their white +trumpets whispered of childish play-days and +flower-ladies she had set walking in procession +under the shadow of some big green leaf. Blue—the +soft stars of spider-wort opening among the +rocks reminded her of the hue; blue curls and +dittany tangled at the path edge; but the very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +air itself was beginning to wear Creed’s colour +and put on that wonderful, luminous blue in which +the Cumberlands of midsummer melt cerulean into +a sky of lapis lazuli. Creed’s colour—Creed’s +colour—her dark eyes misted as they searched +the far reaches of the hills and found it everywhere.</p> +<p>Jephthah Turrentine used to say that if a man +owned enough mountain land to set his foot on, +he owned the whole of the sky above him; it was +a truer word than this old mountain dweller could +have known, since the mere possessor of a city +lot, where other tall roofs cut the horizon high, +must content himself with less of the welkin.</p> +<p>Judith opened the door, went in, closed it +behind her, and gazed about. There lay over +everything a fine dust; there was the look of +decay which comes with disuse; and the air bore +the musty odour of a shut and long uninhabited +house. The Bonbright home had been a good +one for the mountains, of hewn logs, and with +four rooms, and two great stone chimneys. Inside +was the furniture which Mary Gillenwaters +brought to it as a bride when her mountain lover +came down to Hepzibah and with the swift ardour +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +of his tribe—this Bonbright’s fires of eloquence +were all kindled upon the altar of his mating +romance—charmed the daughter of its one merchant. +These added to the already fairly complete +plenishings, many of which had come over +the mountains from Virginia when Sevier opened +up the new State, gave an air of abundance, even +of sober elegance to the room.</p> +<p>Reverently Judith moved among the dumb +witnesses and servitors of Bonbright generations. +Here was the spinning-wheel, here the cards, and +out in the little room off the porch stood the loom. +She had dreams of replacing these with a sewing +machine. Nobody wove jeans any more—but a +good carpet-loom now, <i>that</i> might be made useful. +Unwilling to hang the bedding on bushes for fear +of a chance tear from twig or thorn, she rigged +a line in the back yard, and spread quilt and +homespun blanket, coarse white sheets and pillowcases +that were yellowing with age, out for the glad +gay wind to play with, for the sunshine to sweeten.</p> +<p>“What a lot of feather beds!” she murmured as +she tallied them over. “That there ticking is +better than you can buy in the stores. My, ain’t +these light and nice!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></p> +<p>All the warm, sunny afternoon she toiled at +her self-appointed labour of love. She swept +and dusted, she scrubbed and cleaned, with +capable fingers, proud of the strength and skill +that made her a good housewife; then bringing in +the fragrant, homely fabrics, made up the +beds and placed all back in due order.</p> +<p>“He’s boun’ to notice somebody’s been here +and put things to rights,” she said over and over +to herself. “If it looks sightly, and seems like +home, mebbe he’ll give out the notion of stayin’ +at Nancy Card’s, and come and live here.” She +brooded on the bliss of the idea as she worked.</p> +<p>Under the great mahogany four-poster in the +front room was slipped a trundle-bed that she +drew out and looked at with fond eyes. No doubt +Creed’s boyish head had lain there once. She +wished passionately that she had known him +then, all unaware that we never do know our +lovers when they and we are children. Even +those playfellows who are destined to be mates +find, all on a day, that the familiar companion +who has grown up beside each has changed into +quite a different person.</p> +<p>She rolled the trundle-bed back into place and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +turned to lift a pile of bedding that lay apparently +on a chest. When it was raised it revealed the +clumsy old cradle that had rocked three generations +of Bonbrights. She stood looking down at +it with quickening pulse, then reached a fluttering +hand and touched its small pillow tenderly. +Here had rested that golden head, so many years +ago; beside it his mother had sat and rocked. +At the thought Judith was on her knees, her +hands falling naturally upon the side and rocking +the small bed. In a strange conflict of dreamy +emotion, she swayed it back and forth a moment, +and then—what woman could resist it?—began to +croon an old mountain cradle song. Suddenly +the westering sun got to the level of a half shrouded +window and sent a beam in across Judith’s bent +head.</p> +<p>“My land!” she whispered, getting to her feet. +“I ain’t got no call to stay foolin’ here all day. +Dilsey’ll jest about burn them cakes I told her +to bake, and I ain’t fixed my blue bow for my +hair yet.”</p> +<p>She swept a glance around the speckless room, +gathered up her paraphernalia of cleaning, passed +out, locked the door, and set her face toward home. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></p> +<p>In Mary Bonbright’s garden, now given over to +weeds as the gardens of dead women are so apt +to be, there had grown a singular, half wild rose. +This flower was of a clear blood red, with a yellow +heart which its five broad petals, flinging wide +open, disclosed to view, unlike the crimped and +guarded loveliness of the more evolved sisters +of the green-house. Mowed down spring after +spring by the scythe of Strubley, the renter, the +vigorous thing had spread abroad, and as Judith +stepped from the door its exultant beauty caught +her eye. Flaming shields of crimson, bearing +each its boss of filagree gold, the hosts of the red +rose stood up bravely in the choking grass to +which the insensate scythe blade had so often +levelled them, and shouted to the girl of love and +joy, and of youth which was the time for both. +Wide petalled, burning red, their golden hearts +open to sun and bee, they were the blossoms for +the earth-woman. She ran and knelt down +beside them.</p> +<p>He had said that his favourite colour was blue—but +there are no blue roses. She did not follow +it far enough to guess that the man who was +content with the colour of the sky might not get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +his gaze down close enough to earth to care for +roses. She bent above them gloating on their +fierce, triumphant splendour. Was there ever +such a colour? But the stems were dreadfully +short. A sudden purpose grew in her mind. +With hasty, tremulous fingers she gathered an +apronful of the blossoms. Once more she unlocked +the front door, hurried back to that bed +which she had so lovingly spread, and on its white +coverlet began arranging a great, glowing wreath, +fashioned by setting a circle of red roses petal +to petal.</p> +<p>As she worked Cliantha Lusk’s ballad came +into her head, and she sang it under her breath.</p> +<table summary='poetry' style=' margin-left:4em;'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“‘And they grew and they grew to the old church top</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Till they couldn’t grow any higher,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And there they twined in a true lover’s knot,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>The red rose and the briar.’</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>“No—that ain’t it—</p> +<table summary='poetry' style=' margin-left:4em;'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“‘And there they twined in a true lover’s knot,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>For all true lovers to admire.’”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>True lovers—she crooned the word over and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +over. It was sweet to say it. She thrilled through +all her strong young body with the delight of +what she was doing.</p> +<p>“He’ll wonder who put ’em there,” she +whispered to herself. “Ef nothin’ else don’t +take his eye, these here is shore to.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VI_THE_PLAYPARTY' id='VI_THE_PLAYPARTY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +<h2>Chapter VI</h2> +<h3>The Play-Party</h3> +</div> + +<p>Long lanes of light crossed the grass from window +and door of the Turrentine house; Judith’s +play-party was in full swing. They were +dancing or playing in the big front room which was +lit only by the rich broken shimmer and shine +from a fire of pine sticks in the cavernous black +chimney. Though it was early July the evening, +in those altitudes, had its own chill, and the heat +from this was not unpleasant, while its illumination +became necessary, for all the lamps and +candles available were in use out where the tables +were spread.</p> +<p>Old Jephthah held state in his own quarters, +a detached log cabin standing about thirty feet +from the main structure, and once used probably +to house the loom or for some such extra domestic +purpose. Here too a fire smoldered on the hearthstone, +for the head of the Turrentine clan was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +tormented by rheumatism, that plague of otherwise +healthy primitive man. He lounged now on +the doorstep, smoking, ready to intercept and +entertain any of the older men who might come +with their women folk. Occasionally somebody +rode up, or came tramping down the trail or +through the woods—a belated merrymaker hurrying +in to ask who had arrived and who was +expected.</p> +<p>To the father’s intense disgust Jim Cal had +elected to sit with the elders that night, and +obstinately held his place before the hearthstone +in the cabin room. Jephthah Turrentine’s sons +were none of them particularly satisfactory to +their progenitor. A man of brains, a creature +to whom an argument was ever more than the +mere material thing argued about, these male +offspring, who took their traits naturally after +the spindle side, vexed him with resemblance +to their handsome, high-tempered, brainless +mother. But Jim Cal was worse than a bore to +his father; the old fellow regarded a son who +weighed above two hundred pounds as a disgrace. +And to-night the fact that the door of his room +commanded a sidelong view of the tables which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +were being spread, and about which Iley circled +and scolded, furnished so fair a reason for James +Calhoun’s selection of it as an anchorage that his +father was the more offended.</p> +<p>“You thar, Unc’ Jep?” sounded Blatchley +Turrentine’s careless voice from the dark.</p> +<p>“I make out to be,” returned his uncle lazily.</p> +<p>Blatchley came into the circle of dim light +about the door, Andy and Jeff at his shoulder. +Wade followed a moment later.</p> +<p>“Why ain’t you-all boys down thar whar the +gals is at, playin’?” inquired Jim Cal fretfully. +“Looks like to me ef I was a young feller an’ not +wedded I wouldn’t hang around whar the old +men was.”</p> +<p>“Is Creed Bonbright comin’ over here to-night?” +inquired Andy abruptly, in obedience apparently +to a nudge from Blatch.</p> +<p>“I reckon he is,” observed the old man dispassionately. +“Jude has purty well bidden the +whole top of the mountain.”</p> +<p>“Is Pone Cyard comin’?” put in Jeff. The +twins usually spoke alternately, the sum of their +conversation counting thus for one.</p> +<p>“That I can’t say,” returned the old man with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +mildly ironic emphasis. “Mebbe him and the +chaps and the lame rooster—<i>and</i> Nancy—will +come along at the tail of the procession.”</p> +<p>“Well,” persisted Andy, breaking a somewhat +lengthened silence in which all the newcomers +stood, and through which their breathing could +be distinctly heard, “well I think Creed Bonbright +has got the impudence! He come to the +jail, whar me and Jeff was at, an’ he had some +talk with us, an’ I let him know my mind. He +stood in with that marshal—I know it—and so +does Jeff. Pone Cyard got out quicker becaze +Bonbright tipped the marshal the wink; but +I don’t hold with him nor his doin’s.”</p> +<p>The parent of the twins regarded them both +with sardonic black eyes half shut. “<i>You</i> +don’t? And who-all might you be, young fellers?” +he asked. “This here Bonbright man has +come up on Turkey Track to give us a show +at law. If they’s persons engaged in unlawful +practices on this here mountain top, mebbe he’ll +knock up against ’em. Them that keeps the +law and lives decent has no reason to fear the +law. Ain’t that what you say, Blatch?” turning +suddenly to his nephew. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></p> +<p>The big swart mountaineer drew up his shoulders +with a sort of shrug.</p> +<p>“Ef you stand in with Bonbright, Unc’ Jep,” +he said, bluntly, “we might as well all go down +to Hepzibah and give ourselves up. You’ve done +rented me the land, and yo’ boys is in the still +with me—air ye a-goin’ to stand from under, and +have the marshal forever keepin’ us on the jump?”</p> +<p>Old Jephthah looked wordless contempt at the +nephew who knew little enough to impute such +a course to him.</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” put in Jim Cal’s thin, +querulous tones from the back of the room—the +voice of a fat man in trouble; can anyone say +why the sorrows of the obese are always comic +to the rest of the world? “A body cain’t sleep +nights for thinkin’ what may chance.”</p> +<p>“Oh,—air you thar, podner?” inquired Blatch, +with a sort of ferocious banter in his tone which +he frequently used toward his fleshy associate. +“I thort ye was down in the bed sick.”</p> +<p>“I was,” said Jim Cal sulkily; “but Iley she +said—Iley ’lowed——”</p> +<p>Blatch burst into a great horse laugh, which +the others joined. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></p> +<p>“I know’d in reason ye’d be down when they +came any trouble at the still,” he commented. +“Hit always affects yo’ health thataway; but +I didn’t know Iley had seed reason to dig ye out. +What you goin’ to do about Bonbright, Unc’ +Jep—stand in with him?”</p> +<p>“Well—you <i>air</i> a fool,” observed the old man +meditatively. “Who named standin’ in with +Bonbright, or standin’ out agin’ him? When I +rented you my farm for five year I had no thought +of yo’ starting up that pesky ol’ still on it. But I +never was knowed to rue a trade. My daddy +taught me when I made a bad bargain to freeze +the tighter to it, and I’ve no mind to do other.”</p> +<p>“They’d been a still thar,” said Blatch defensively.</p> +<p>The old man nodded.</p> +<p>“Oh, yes,” he agreed. “Hit had been,—I put +it thar. I’ve made many a run of whiskey in +my young days—and I’ve seed the folly of it. +I reckon you fool boys’ll have to see the folly +of it too befo’ yo’ve got yo’ satisfy. As for +Creed Bonbright, he ’pears to think that if we +have plenty of law in the Turkey Tracks we’ll +all go to heaven in a hand-basket. Mebbe he’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +right, and then agin mebbe he’s wrong; but this +I know, ain’t anybody goin’ to jump on him in +my house, and he gets a fair show when fightin’ +time comes.”</p> +<p>“Well, if he ain’t standin’ in with the marshal, +what does he—” began Andy’s high-pitched boyish +voice, when somebody called, “Good evening,” +in pleasant tones, and Bonbright himself got off +a light-stepping mule, tethered him to the fence, +and came toward the cabin.</p> +<p>He had just returned from a meeting of the +County Court at Hepzibah, where he did good +service in representing the needs of his district, +fighting hard for more money for schools—the +plan heretofore had been to let them have only +their own pro rata of the school tax.</p> +<p>“It’ll pay you a heap better to educate the +mountain people than to hire their keep in jail,” +he said to his fellow justices of the valley. “The +blue-backed speller is the best cure for crime in +the mountains that I know of.”</p> +<p>He failed to get this; but he succeeded in +another matter, one less near his heart, but +calculated to appeal perhaps more strongly to his +constituents; he secured the opening of a highway +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +for which the people in the two Turkey +Tracks had struggled and prayed more than +twenty years. It was with the pride of this +victory strong in him that he had set out for +Judith’s play-party. The young fellow might +have been pardoned a half wistful belief that +this first success was the entering wedge and +would lead swiftly to that standing with his +neighbours lacking which he was helpless. Yet +the sons of the house replied but gruffly to his +greeting, and, as though his coming had been a +signal, the younger group promptly disappeared +in the direction of the main cabin.</p> +<p>At the old man’s hearty invitation, Creed seated +himself on the doorstep, while his host went in +for a coal from the smouldering hearth to light +his pipe, and joined the guest a moment later.</p> +<p>“Well sir, and how’s the law coming on +these days?” inquired old Jephthah somewhat +humorously.</p> +<p>“I reckon it’s doing pretty well,” allowed +Creed. “The law’s all right, Mr. Turrentine; +it’s what our people need; and if there comes any +failure it’s bound to be in me, not in the law.”</p> +<p>“That’s right,” old Jephthah commended him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +“Stand up for yo’ principles. Ef you go into a +thing, back it. I never could get on with these +here good-Lord-good-devil folks. I like to know +whar a man’s at—cain’t hit him unless ’n you do.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” piped Jim Cal’s reedy +voice from the interior. “Is it true that you’ve +done made up the Shalliday fuss over that thar +cow, Creed? I thort a jestice of the peace was +to he’p folks have fusses, place o’ settlin’ ’em up.”</p> +<p>“That’s what everybody seems to think,” +replied Creed rather dolefully. “I can’t say I’m +very proud of my part in the Shalliday matter. +It seemed to be mighty hard on the widow; but +the law was on her brother-in-law’s side; so I +gave my decision in favour of Bill Shalliday, and +paid the woman for the cow. And now they’re +both mad at me.”</p> +<p>Old Jephthah narrowed his eyes and chuckled +in luxurious enjoyment of the situation.</p> +<p>“To be shore they air. To be shore they air,” +he repeated with unction. “Ain’t you done a +favour to the both of ’em? Is they anything a +man will hate you worse for than a favour? If +they is I ain’t met up with it yet.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” iterated Jim Cal. “What’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +the use o’ tryin’ to he’p folks to law and order +when they don’t want it, and you’ve got to buy +’em to behave? When you git to be a married +man with chaps, like me, you’ll keep yo’ money +in yo’ breeches pocket and let other folks fix it +up amongst themselves about their cows an’ +sech.”</p> +<p>“I had hoped to get a chance to do something +that amounted to more than settling small family +fusses,” Creed said in a discouraged tone. “I +hoped to have the opportunity to talk to many a +gathering of our folks about the desirability of +good citizenship in a general way. This thing +of blockaded stills keeps us forever torn up with +a bad name in the valley and the settlement.”</p> +<p>Old Jephthah stirred not a hair; Jim Cal sat +just as he had; yet the two were indefinably +changed the moment the words “blockaded still” +were uttered.</p> +<p>“Do you know of any sech? Air ye aimin’ to +find out about em?” quavered the fat man finally, +and his father looked scornfully at him, and the +revelation of his terror.</p> +<p>“No. I don’t mean it in that personal way,” +Creed answered impatiently. “Mr. Turrentine, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +I wish you’d tell me what you think about it. +You’ve lived all your life in the mountains; +you’re a man of judgment—is there any way +to show our people the folly as well as the crime +of illicit distilling?”</p> +<p>Jephthah surveyed with amusement the youth +who came to an old moonshiner for an opinion +as to the advisability of the traffic. He liked the +audacity of it. It tickled his fancy.</p> +<p>“Well sir,” he said finally, “the guv’ment sets +off thar in Washington and names a-many a +thing that I shall do and that I shan’t do. Howsomever, +they is but one thing hit will come here +and watch out to see ef I keep rules on—and +that’s the matter o’ moonshine whiskey. Guv’ment,” +he repeated meditatively but with rising +rancour, “what has the guv’ment ever done +fer me, that I should be asked to do so much +for hit? I put the case thisaway. That +man raises corn and grinds it to meal and +makes it into bread. I raise corn and grind +hit to meal and make clean, honest whiskey. +The man that makes the bread pays no tax; +guv’ment says I shall pay a tax—an’ I say +I will not, by God!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p> +<p>The big voice had risen to a good deal of feeling +before old Jephthah made an end.</p> +<p>“Nor I wouldn’t neither,” bleated Jim Cal +in comical antiphon.</p> +<p>In the light from the open doorway Creed’s +face looked uneasy.</p> +<p>“But you don’t think—you wouldn’t—” he +began and then broke off.</p> +<p>Old Jephthah shook his head.</p> +<p>“I ain’t got no blockade still,” he asserted +sweepingly. “I made my last run of moonshine +whiskey many a year ago. I reckon two wrongs +don’t make a right.”</p> +<p>Creed’s dismay increased. Inexperienced boy, +he had not expected to encounter such feeling +in the discussion of this the one topic upon which +your true mountaineer of the remote districts +can never be anything but passionate, embittered, +at bay.</p> +<p>“You name the crime of makin’ wildcat whiskey,” +the old man’s deep, accusing voice went on, +after a little silence. “It ain’t no crime—an’ +you know it—an’ no guv’ment o’ mortal men can +make a crime out’n it. As for the foolishness of +it,” he dropped his chin on his breast, his black +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +eyes looked out broodingly, his great beard rose +against his lips and muffled his tones, “I reckon +the foolishness of a thing is what each feller has +to find out for hisself,” he said. “Daddies has +been tryin’ since the time of Adam to let their +knowin’ it sarve for their sons; but ef one of ’em +has made the plan work yit, I ain’t heard on it. +Nor the guv’ment can’t neither. A man’ll take +his punishment for a meanness an’ l’arn by it; +but to be jailed for what’s his right makes an +outlaw of him, an’ always will. Good Lord, +Creed! What set you an’ me off on this tune? +Young feller, you ort to be down yon dancin’ with +the gals, instead of here talking foolishness to a +old man like me.”</p> +<p>Creed arose to his tall young height and glanced +uncertainly from his host to the lighted room +from which came the sounds of fiddle and stamping +feet. It was a little hard for a prophet on his +own mountain-top to be sent to play with the +children; yet he went.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VII_KISSES' id='VII_KISSES'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +<h2>Chapter VII</h2> +<h3>Kisses</h3> +</div> + +<p>With the advent of the four Turrentine boys +festivities had taken on a brighter air, the +game became better worth while.</p> +<p>“Wade, you’ve got to fiddle,” cried Judith +peremptorily. A chair was set upon a table in +the corner, the rather reluctant Wade hoisted +to it, and soon “Weevily Wheat,” as the twitting +tune comes from the country fiddler’s jigging +bow, was filling the room.</p> +<p>“I reckon I ought to have asked your ruthers +before I took Wade out of the game,” Judith said +to Huldah Spiller as they joined hands to begin.</p> +<p>“Like I cared!” retorted Huldah, tossing her +red head till the curls bobbed. She was wearing +the new blue lawn dress, made by a real store +pattern cut out of tissue paper, and was supremely +conscious of looking her best.</p> +<p>The Lusk girls in spotted calico frocks, the +dots whereof were pink on Cliantha’s dress, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +blue on Pendrilla’s, had bridled and glanced +about shamefaced when Andy and Jeff came in; +they now “balanced” demurely with down +dropped eyes as the game moved to the music.</p> +<p>Judith had left the supper preparations with +the elder women, pieced out by the assistance of +old Dilsey Rust, and was most active in the games. +In the white muslin, washed and ironed by her +own skilful, capable fingers, with the blue bow +confining the heavy chestnut braids at the nape +of her neck, her dark beauty glowed richly. Now +the players shifted to “Drop the Handkerchief.” +Judith delighted in this game because, fleeter +of foot, quicker of hand and eye than the others, +she continually disappointed any daring swain +who thought to have a kiss from her. Her shining +eyes were ever on the doorway, till Blatch Turrentine +left his seat at the back of the room and +elected to lounge there watching the play with +the tolerant air of a man contemplating the sports +of children. It apparently gave him satisfaction +that Judith time after time eluded a pursuer, +broke into the ring and left him to wander in +search of a less alert and resolute fair.</p> +<p>“Cain’t none of the boys kiss yo’ gal,” panted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +Huldah Spiller, pausing beside him. “I doubt +mightily ef ye could do it yo’self ’less’n she +had a mind to let ye’.”</p> +<p>Judith heard, and the carmine on her cheek +deepened and spread, while the dark eyes above +gleamed angrily.</p> +<p>“Come on and play, Blatch,” called Wade, +jigging away valiantly at his fiddle. “We all +know who it is you want to kiss—most of us is +bettin’ that you’re scared to try.”</p> +<p>“Play!” echoed Blatchley in a contemptuous +tone. “I say play! When I want to buss a gal, +I walk up and take my ruthers—like this.”</p> +<p>Again that daunting panther quickness of +movement from the big slouching figure; the +powerful lines seemed to melt and flow as he +flung himself in Judith’s direction, and cast one +arm firmly about her in such a way that it pinioned +both her elbows to her side.</p> +<p>“You turn me a-loose!” she cried, even as +Little Buck had cried. “That ain’t fair. I +wasn’t ready for ye, ’caze ye said ye wouldn’t +play. You turn me a-loose or ye’ll wish ye +had.”</p> +<p>“No fair—no fair!” came the cries from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +boys in the ring. “Either you stay out or come +in. Jude’s right.”</p> +<p>“Well, some of ye put me out,” suggested +Blatchley, significantly. He had brought a jug +of moonshine whiskey over from the still and +it was flowing freely, though unknown to Old +Jephthah, in the loft where most of his possessions +were kept.</p> +<p>No man moved to lay finger on him. He held +Judith—scarlet of face and almost in tears—by her +elbows, and lowered his mocking countenance to +within a few inches of her angry eyes.</p> +<p>“Now kiss me pretty, and kiss me all yo’self. +I ain’t got nothin’ to do with this; hit’s yo’ play. +You been wantin’ to git a chance to kiss me this +long while,” he asserted with derisive humour. +“Don’t you hold off becaze the others is here; +that ain’t the way you do when we’re—”</p> +<p>“Wade—Jim Cal! Won’t some o’ you boys +pull this fool man away,” appealed Judith. “I +wish somebody’d call Uncle Jep. You can hold +yo’ ugly old face there till yo’ hair turns grey,” +she suddenly and furiously addressed her admirer. +“I’ll never kiss ye.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes you will—you always do,” Blatchley +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +maintained. “Ef I was to tell the folks how +blame lovin’ ye are when jest you and me is alone +together——”</p> +<p>He looked over his shoulder to enjoy the +triumph of the moment. Blatchley Turrentine’s +delight was to traverse the will of every other +human being with his own preference. Judith’s +gaze, tormented, tear-blurred, followed his and +saw across the shoulders of the others, the shine +of Creed Bonbright’s fair hair, in the doorway. +The sight brought from her an inarticulate cry. +It fired Blatchley to take the kiss which he had +vowed should be given him. As he bent to do so, +Creed stepped forward and laid a hand upon his +shoulder. The movement was absolutely pacific, +but the fingers closed with a viselike grip, and +there was so sharp a backward jerk that the +proffered salute was not delivered.</p> +<p>In the surprise of the moment Judith pulled +herself free and stood at bay. For an instant +the two men looked into each other’s +eyes. Creed’s blue orbs were calm, impersonal, +and without one hint of yielding or +fear.</p> +<p>“If you don’t play fair,” he said in argumentative +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +tone, “there’s no use playing at all. +Let’s close up the ring and try it again.”</p> +<p>All eyes in the room turned to Blatchley Turrentine, +the women in a flutter of terrified apprehension, +the men with a brightening of interest; +surely he would resent this interference in some +notable manner. But Blatch was in fact too +deadly to be merely high-tempered, quick in +anger. For a moment he stared at Bonbright, +trying to look him down; then those odd, whitey-grey +eyes narrowed to mere slits. He laid the +matter up in his mind; this was not the time for +settling it—here before Judith Barrier and the +women. He did not mean to content himself +with mere fisticuffs, or even a chance pocket-knife +which might double in his grasp and cut +his own hand. To the immense surprise of +everybody he stretched out his long arms, caught +carelessly at the fingers of a player on either +side of him, and, mending the line, began to +move in rhythmic time to the fiddle.</p> +<p>It was soon observable that Creed Bonbright’s +presence caused Huldah Spiller’s spirits to mount +several notes in the octave. Whether it was that +her own betrothed was looking on, and this an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +excellent chance to show him that even the town +feller felt her charm, or merely Creed’s personal +attractions could hardly be guessed.</p> +<p>“Come on,” she cried recklessly, “let’s play +‘Over the River to Feed my Sheep.’ Strike up +the tune, Wade.”</p> +<p>The game she mentioned was also a forfeit +play, with the difference that the kiss was more +certain, being taken of mere choice—though +delivered, of course, with due maidenly reluctance +and a show of resisting—whenever the girl facing +one could be caught over the line. All the young +people played it; all the elders deprecated it. +At the bottom of Judith’s heart lay one reason +for making a play-party and bidding Creed +Bonbright to it; and now Huldah Spiller was +blatantly calling out the unconfessed, the unconfessable; +Wade was sullenly dropping into +the old Scotch air; the long lines were forming, +men opposite the girls—and the red-headed +minx had placed herself directly across from +Creed!</p> +<p>The laughing chains swayed back and forth +to the measure of the music—advancing, retreating, +pursuing, evading, choosing, rejecting, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +in a gay parody of courtship. Voices were added +to that of the fiddle.</p> +<table summary='poetry' style=' margin-left:4em;'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“Hit’s over the river to feed my sheep,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 1.83958793230316em;'>Hit’s over the river to Charley;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Hit’s over the river to feed my sheep</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 1.47167034584253em;'>An’ to kiss my lonesome darling,”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>they sang.</p> +<p>Shadows crouched in the corners, flickering, +dancing, threatening to come out and play, then +shrinking back as the blaze leaped and the room +widened. The rough brown walls took the shine +and broidered themselves with a thread of +golden tracery. In such an illumination the +eyes shone with added luster, flying locks were +all hyacinthine, the frocks might have been silks +and satins.</p> +<p>In the movement of the game girls and boys +divided. The girls tossed beribboned heads in +unwonted coquetry, yet showed always, in downcast +eyes and the modest management of light +draperies, the mountain ideal of maidenhood. +Across from them the line of youthful masculinity +swayed; tall, lean, brown-faced, keen-eyed young +hunters these, sinewy and light and quick of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +movement, with fine hands and feet, and a lazy +pride of bearing. A very different type from +that found in the lowlands, or in ordinary rustic +communities.</p> +<p>Judith noted the other players not at all; her +hot reprehending eyes were on the girl in the blue +dress. She did not observe that she herself was +dancing opposite Andy, while Pendrilla Lusk +dragged with drooping head in the line across +from the amiably grinning Doss Provine. Finding +herself suddenly in the lead and successful, Huldah +began to preen her feathers a bit. She withdrew +a hand from the girl on her right to arrange the +small string of blue glass beads around her neck.</p> +<p>“Jest ketch to my skirt for a minute,” she +whispered loudly. “I reckon hit won’t rip, +though most of ’em is ‘stitches taken for a +friend’—I was that anxious to get it done for +the party. Oh, Law!”</p> +<p>And then—nobody knew how it happened—she +was over the line, her hold on the hands of her +mates broken, she had tripped and fallen in a +giggling blue lawn heap fairly at Bonbright’s feet. +He was in a position where the least gallant must +offer the salute the game demanded, but to make +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +assurance doubly sure Huldah put out her hands +like a three-year-old, crying,</p> +<p>“He’p me up, Creed, I b’lieve I’ve sprained my +ankle.”</p> +<p>The young fellow from Hepzibah was in a +mood for play. After all he was only a big boy, +and he had been long barred out from young +people’s frolics. Here was a gay, toward little +soul, who seemed to like him. He stooped and +caught her by the waist, picking her up as one +might a small child, and holding her a moment +with her feet off the floor. Something in the +laughing challenge of her face as she protested +and begged to be put down prompted him as to +what was expected. He kissed her lightly upon +the cheek before he released her.</p> +<p>As he set her down he encountered Wade +Turrentine’s eye. A spark of tawny fire had +leaped to life in its hazel depth. The fiddler still +clung faithfully to his office. If he missed a note +now and again, or played off key, he might be +forgiven. It is to be remembered that he sawed +away without a moment’s pause throughout the +entire episode.</p> +<p>Creed reached out to join the broken line and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +touched Jeff’s arm. The boy flung away from +the contact with a muttered word. He looked +helplessly at Judith, but she would not glance +at him; head haughtily erect, long lashes on +crimson cheeks, red lip curled to an expression +of offence and disdain, the young hostess mended +the line by joining the hands of the two girls on +each side of her.</p> +<p>“You-all can go on playin’ without me,” she +said in a constrained tone. “I got to see to something +in the other room.”</p> +<p>“See here, Mister Man,” remarked Blatch, +as Judith prepared to leave. “You’re mighty +free and permisc’ous makin’ rules for kissin’ +games, but I take notice you don’t follow none of +’em yo’se’f.”</p> +<p>Judith halted uncertainly. To stop and defend +Creed was out of the question. She was about +to interpose with the general accusation that +Blatch was trying to pick a fuss and break +up her play-party, when Iley’s voice, for once +a welcome interruption, broke in from the +doorway.</p> +<p>“Jude, we ain’t got plates enough for everybody +an’ to put the biscuit on,” called Jim Cal’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +wife. “Ax Creed Bonbright could we borry a +few from his house.”</p> +<p>Judith closed instantly with the diversion. +She moved quickly toward the door; Bonbright +joined her.</p> +<p>“Why yes,” he said. “You know I told you +to help yourself. Let me go over now and get +what you want. Is there anything else?”</p> +<p>“That’s mighty kind of you, Creed,” Judith +thanked him. “I reckon I better go along with +ye and see. I don’t think of anything else just +now. Iley, we’ll be back quick as we can with +all the plates ye need.”</p> +<p>Together they stepped out into the soft dusk +of the summer night, followed by the narrowed +gaze of Blatch Turrentine’s grey eyes.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VIII_ON_THE_DOORSTONE' id='VIII_ON_THE_DOORSTONE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +<h2>Chapter VIII</h2> +<h3>On the Doorstone</h3> +</div> + +<p>Behind them the play was resumed in the +lighted room; the whining of the fiddle, the +thud and stamp of many feet, came to them softened +and refined by a little distance. They were +suddenly drawn together in that intimacy of two +who leave the company and the lights on a special +expedition. Judith made an impatient mental +effort to release the incident of Huldah and the +kiss, which had so unreasonably irritated her.</p> +<p>“If we was to go acrosst fields hit would be a +heap better,” she advised softly, and they moved +through the odorous, myriad-voiced darkness +of the midsummer night, side by side, without +speech, for a time. Then as Creed halted at a dim, +straggling barrier which crossed their course and +laid down a rail fence partially that she might +the more easily get over in her white frock, she +returned to the tormenting subject once more, +opening obliquely: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>“You and Huldy Spiller is old friends I reckon. +Don’t you think she’s a powerful pretty +girl?”</p> +<p>“Mighty pretty,” echoed Creed absently. All +girls were of an even prettiness to him, and +Huldah Spiller was a pleasant little thing. He +was wondering what he had done back there in +the play-room that had set them all against him.</p> +<p>“Her and Wade is goin’ to be wedded come +September,” put in Judith jealously.</p> +<p>“Yo’ cousin will be getting a mighty fine wife.”</p> +<p>The mountain man is apt to make his comments +on the marriages of his friends with dignified +formality, and Creed uttered the accustomed +phrase without heat or enthusiasm; but it seemed +to Judith that he might have said less—or more.</p> +<p>“Well, I never did like red hair,” the girl +managed to get out finally; “but I reckon hit’s +better than old black stuff like mine.”</p> +<p>“My mother’s hair was sorter sandy,” Creed +answered in his gentle, tolerant fashion. “Mine +favours it.” And he had not the wit to add +that dark hair, however, pleased him best.</p> +<p>Judith stepped beside him for some moments +in mortified silence. Evidently he was green wood +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +and could by none of her old methods be kindled. +Then, their eyes becoming accustomed to the +darkness, they came out into a modified twilight +in the clearing about the Bonbright house. “You +better unlock the door and go in first,” suggested +Judith, in a depressed tone.</p> +<p>“Why, I ain’t got the key,” Creed reminded +her. “I left it with you—didn’t you bring it?”</p> +<p>They drew unconsciously close together in the +dark with something of the guilty consternation +of childish culprits. A mishap of the sort ripens +an acquaintance swiftly.</p> +<p>“What a gump I was!” Judith breathed with +sudden low laughter. He could see her eyes +shining in the gloom, and the dim outline of her +figure. “I knowed well an’ good you didn’t +have the key—hit’s in the blue bowl on the +fire-board at home.”</p> +<p>“I ought to have thought of it,” asserted Creed +shouldering the blame. “And I’m sorry; I +wanted to show you my mother’s picture.”</p> +<p>“An’ <i>I’m</i> sorry,” echoed Judith, remembering +fleetingly the swept and garnished rooms, the +wreath of red roses; “I had something to show +you, too.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></p> +<p>Nothing was said of the dishes for the merrymakers +at Judith’s house. Another interest was +obtruding itself into the simple, practical expedition, +crowding aside its original purpose. +The girl looked around the dim, weed-grown +garden, its bushes blots of deeper shadow upon +the darkness, its blossoms vaguely conjectured +by their odour.</p> +<p>“There used to be a bubby bush—a sweet-scented +shrub—over in that corner,” Creed +hesitated. “I’d like to get you some of the +bubbies. My mother used to pick ’em and put +’em in the bureau drawers I remember, and they +made everything smell nice.”</p> +<p>He had taken her hand and led her with him, +advancing uncertainly toward the flowers. He +felt her shiver, and halted instantly.</p> +<p>“Yo’ cold!” he said. “Let me take my coat +off and put it around ye—I don’t need it. You +got overheated playing back there, and now +you’ll catch a cold.”</p> +<p>“Oh, no,” disclaimed Judith, whose little +shudder had been as much from excitement +as from the sharp chill of the night +air after the heated play-room. “I reckon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +somebody jest walked over my grave—I +ain’t cold.”</p> +<p>But he had pulled off the coat while he spoke, +and now he turned to put it about her, and drew +her back to the doorstep. Judith was full of a +strange ecstasy as she slipped her arms into the +sleeves. The lover’s earliest and favourite artifice—the +primitive kindness of wrapping her in +his own garment! Even Creed, unready and +unschooled as he was, felt stir within him its +intimate appeal.</p> +<p>A nebulous lightening which had been making +itself felt behind the eastern line of mountains +now came plainly in view, late moon, melancholy +and significant, as the waning moon always +is. By its dim illumination Creed saw Judith +Barrier standing at the door of his own house, +smiling at him tremulously, with the immemorial +challenge in her dark eyes. To that challenge +the native man in him—the lover—so long +usurped by the zealot, the would-be philanthropist, +rose thrilling, yet still bewildered and +uncertain, to respond. Something heady and +ancient and eternally young seemed to pass into +his soul out of the night and the moonlight and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +the shining of her eyes. He was all alive to her +nearness, her loveliness, to the sweet sense that +she was a young woman, he a young man, and the +loveliness and the dearness of her were his for the +trying—for the winning. His breath caught in +his throat.</p> +<p>“Wait a minute,” he whispered hurriedly, +though she had not moved. With eager hands +he wrapped the coat close about her. “Let’s +sit here on the doorstep and talk awhile. There +are a heap of things I want to ask you about—that +I want to tell you.”</p> +<p>Young beauty and belle that she was, Judith +had been sought and courted, in that most primitive +society, since she was fourteen. She was +love’s votary by birthright, and her wit and her +emotions were schooled in love’s game: to lure, +to please, to exploit, to defend, evade, deny; +in each postulant seeking, testing, trying for the +right man to whom should be made love’s final +surrender. But Creed, always absorbed in vague +altruistic dreams, had no boyish sweethearting +behind him to have taught him the ways of +courtship.</p> +<p>Fire-flies sparkled everywhere, thickest over the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +marshy places. A mole cricket was chirring in +the grass by the old doorstone. Sharp on the +soft dark air came the call of that woodland night +bird which the mountain people say cries “chip-out-o’-white-oak,” +and which others translate +“chuck-wills-widow.”</p> +<p>“I—” he began, hesitated momentarily, then +daunted, grasped at the familiar things of his +life—“I don’t get on very well up here. I’m +afraid I’ve made a failure of it; but”—he turned +to her in a curious, groping entreaty, his hat in +his hands, the dim moonlight full on his fair +head and in his eager eyes—“but if you would +help me—with you—I think I ought to——”</p> +<p>“I say made a failure!” cooed Judith in her +rich, low tones. “You ax me whatever you +want to know. You tell me what it is that you’re +aimin’ to do—I say made a failure!”</p> +<p>Her trust was so hearty, so wholesale, she +filled so instantly the position not only of sweetheart +but of mother to a small boy with an unsatisfactory +toy—that would always be Judith +Barrier—that Creed’s heart—the man’s heart—a +lonely one, and beginning to feel itself misunderstood +and barred out from its kind—melted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +in his bosom. There was silence between them, +a silence vibrant with the coming utterance. +But even as the dark, fond, inviting eyes and the +troubled, kindling blue ones encountered, as +Creed lifted the girl’s hand timidly, and essayed +speech, the voice of that one who had stepped on +her grave harshly aroused them both.</p> +<p>“I vow—I thort it was thieves, an’ I was +a-goin’ to see could I pick off you-all,” drawled +Blatchley Turrentine’s level tones from the +shadow of the garden. Mutely, with a sense of +chill and disappointment that was like the shock +of a physical blow to each, the two young creatures +got to their feet and turned to leave the +place, preparing to go by the high road, without +consultation. As they passed him near the +gate, Blatch Turrentine fell in on the other side +of the girl and walked with them silently for +a time.</p> +<p>“Iley sont me over,” he said finally. “She +was skeered you-all wouldn’t bring any plates.”</p> +<p>Neither Judith nor Creed offered any explanation. +Instead:</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t see how you’re goin’ to help +anything,” said the girl bitterly—any presence +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +must have been hateful to her which interrupted +or forestalled what Creed would certainly have +said, that for which her whole twenty years had +waited.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve got the plates,” chuckled Blatch, +jingling a bulky package under his arm.</p> +<p>“Why, how did you——” began Judith in +amazement.</p> +<p>“Uh-huh, I’ve got my own little trick of +gittin’ in whar I choose to go,” declared Turrentine. +He leaned around and looked meaningly +at the man on her other side, then questioned, +“How long do you-all reckon I’d been thar?” +and examined them keenly in the shadowy half +light.</p> +<p>But neither hastened to disclaim or explain, +neither seemed in any degree embarrassed, though +to both his bearing was plainly almost intolerable. +Thereafter they walked in silence which was +scarcely broken till they reached the gate and +Iley came shrilling out to meet them demanding,</p> +<p>“Did you get them thar plates from Miz. +Lusk’s, you Blatch Turrentine?”</p> +<p>Judith looked at him with angry scorn. It +was the old tyrannical trick which she had known +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +from her childhood up, the attempt to maintain +an ascendency over her by appearing to know +everything and be everywhere—“like he was the +Lord-a’mighty Hisself,” she muttered indignantly, +as Creed joined a group of young men, and she +passed in to her necessary activities as hostess.</p> +<p>Judith Barrier’s play-party won to its close with +light hearts and light feet, with heavy hearts +which the weary body would fain have denied, +with love and laughter, with jealousy and chagrin, +with the slanted look of envy, of furtive admiration, +or of disparagement, from feminine eyes +at the costumes of other women, just as any ball +does.</p> +<p>The two who had trembled upon the brink +of some personal revelation, a closer communion, +were not again alone together that evening. +Amid the moving figures of the others, now to +his eyes as painted automatons, Creed Bonbright +watched with strong fascination in which there +was a tincture that was almost terror, the beautiful +girl who had suddenly emerged from her class +and become for him the one woman.</p> +<p>So adequate, so competent, Judith dominated +the situation; passing among her guests, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +thick dark lashes continually lowered toward +her crimson cheeks. Some subtle sense told her +that the spell was working. Smiles from this +sweet inner satisfaction curved her red lips. No +need to look—she knew how his eyes were following +her. The exultant knowledge of it sang all +through her being. Gone were her perturbations, +her chilling uncertainties. She was at once +stimulated and quieted.</p> +<p>Their good-byes were said in the most public +manner, yet one glance flashed between them +which asked and promised an early meeting.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IX_FOEMAN_S_BLUFF' id='IX_FOEMAN_S_BLUFF'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +<h2>Chapter IX</h2> +<h3>Foeman’s Bluff</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was near midnight when Creed sought his +patient mule at the rack, to find that Doss +Provine had ridden the animal away.</p> +<p>“He said you was a-goin’ to stay at yo’ own +house to-night, an’ he ’lowed ye wouldn’t need +the mule, an’ he was mighty tired. He ’lowed hit +was a mighty long ja’nt out to the Edge whar +he was a-goin’,” contributed Blev Straley, who +seemed to have been admitted to Provine’s +confidence.</p> +<p>“Mighty long ja’nt—I say long ja’nt!” ejaculated +old man Broyles, who was engaged in +saddling his ancient one-eyed mare. “Ef I +couldn’t spit as fur as from here to the Edge I’d +never chaw tobacker agin! Plain old fashioned +laziness is what ails Doss Provine. I’d nacher’ly +w’ar him out for this trick, Bonbright, ef I was +you.”</p> +<p>“Well, I did aim to stay over at my house +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +to-night,” said Creed, “But I can’t. I’ve got a +case to try in the morning, soon, that I’ve got +to look up some points on yet to-night. I reckon +I’ll have to foot it out to Aunt Nancy’s.”</p> +<p>As Creed spoke a fellow by the name of Taylor +Stribling, a sort of satellite of Blatchley Turrentine’s +came slouching from the shadows of the +nearby smoke-house. He watched old man Broyles +ride away, and Blev Straley take a leisurely +departure.</p> +<p>“Mighty bad ye got to hoof it, Creed,” he +observed. “Ef you’ve a mind to come with me +I can show you a short cut through the woods by +Foeman’s Bluff. Hit’s right on the first part +of my way.”</p> +<p>Creed had been long out of the mountains or +he would have known that a short cut which led +by Foeman’s Bluff would certainly be a strange +route toward Nancy Card’s cabin; but it was +characteristic of the man that without question +or demur he accepted the proffered friendly turn +at its face value, and he and Stribling at once +took the way which led across the gulch to the +still. They walked for some time, Stribling +leading, Creed following, deep in his own thoughts. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span></p> +<p>“Looks like this is a queer direction to be +going,” he roused himself to comment wonderingly +as they dipped into the sudden hollow.</p> +<p>“The trail turns a piece up yon,” explained +the guide briefly.</p> +<p>Again they toiled on in silence, crossing the dry +boulder-strewn bed of a stream, travelling always +in the dense darkness of the tall timber, finally +striking the rise, which was so abrupt and steep +that they had to catch by the path-side bushes +to pull themselves up. It was lighter here, as +the trail mounted toward a region of rocky +bluffs where there was no big timber, running +obliquely across the great promontory that had got +the name of Foeman’s Bluff, from old Ab Foeman +whose hideout, still unknown, was said to be +somewhere in its front.</p> +<p>“Ain’t it mighty curious to be goin’ up so?” +Creed panted. “Aunt Nancy’s place lies lower +than the Turrentines’. By the road it’s down +hill mighty near all the way.”</p> +<p>“Thishyer’s a short cut,” growled the other +evasively. “Mind how you step. Hit’s a fur +ways down thar ef a body was to fall.”</p> +<p>With the words they came out suddenly on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +Bluff itself where the trail widened into a natural +terrace, and the great rock, solemn with majestic +peace, faced an infinity of sky with bared brow. +As they emerged into the light Creed took off +his hat and lifted his countenance, inhaling the +beauty of the summer night. The late moon had +climbed a third of the way up the heavens; now +she looked down with a chastened, tarnished +light, yet with a dusky, diminished beauty that +held a sort of mild pathos. Great timbered +slopes, inky black in this illumination, fell away +on every hand down to where the mists lay +death-white in the valley; behind them was a +low, irregular bulk of brush-grown rock; and all +about the whirr of katydids, a million voices +blended into one. From a nearby thicket +came to them the click and liquid gurgle, +“Chip-out-o’-white-oak!” It sent Creed’s +heart and fancy questing back to the past +hour with the girl on the doorstone. What +would he have asked, she answered, if Blatch +had not interrupted them? He scarcely heard +the wavering cry of a screech-owl that followed +hard upon the remembered notes. +Stribling, however, noted the latter promptly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +and began edging toward the shadow as his +companion spoke.</p> +<p>“This is mighty sightly,” said Creed, looking +about him musingly; “I do love a moonshiny +night.”</p> +<p>For a moment there was only the noise of the +katydids, backgrounded and enfolded by the +deep silence of the great mountains. Then +someone broke out into what was evidently +a forced laugh, a long-drawn, girding, mirthless +haw-haw, the laboured insult of which stung +Creed into a certain resentment of demeanour.</p> +<p>“What’s the joke?” he inquired dryly, turning +toward Taylor Stribling. But Stribling had +silently melted away among the shadows of +distant trees along the trail. It was Blatchley +Turrentine who stood before him thrusting forward +a jeering face in the uncertain half light, +while three vaguely defined forms moved and +shouldered behind him. The apparition was +sinister, but if Blatch looked for demonstrations +of fear he was disappointed.</p> +<p>“What’s the joke?” Creed repeated.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t hold in when I heared your pretty +talk,” drawled Blatch, setting his hands on his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +hips and barring the way. “Whar might you +be a-goin’, Mr. Creed Bonbright?”</p> +<p>“Home,” returned Creed briefly. “Get out of +my road, and I’ll be obliged to you.”</p> +<p>“Yo’ road—<i>yo’</i> road!” echoed Blatch. “Well, +young feller, besides this here road runnin’ acrosst +the south eend o’ the property that I’ve rented +on a five-year lease, ef so be that yo’re a-goin’ to +Nancy Cyard’s house this is a mighty curious +direction for you to be travellin’ in.”</p> +<p>“I was told it was a short cut,” said Bonbright +controlling his temper. A man who was +justice of the peace, going home to get ready +to try a case on the morrow, must not embroil +himself.</p> +<p>“Good Lord!” scoffed Blatch. “You claim +to be mountain raised, and tell me you think this +is a short cut from whar you was at to Nancy +Cyard’s? I reckon you’ll have to make up +another tale.”</p> +<p>Bonbright became suddenly aware that he was +surrounded, two of the men who were with Turrentine +having slipped past him and appearing +now as blots of blacker shadow against the trees +on either side of the path by which he had come. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +Turrentine and the remaining man barred the +way ahead; on the one side was the sheer descent +of the bluff; on the other the rough, broken +rise.</p> +<p>It was like a bad dream. With his usual +forthright directness he spoke out.</p> +<p>“What is it you want of me—all of you? This +meeting never came about by chance.”</p> +<p>Blatch shook his head. “Yo’ mighty right +it didn’t,” he said. “Me an’ the boys has a word +to speak with you, and when we ketch you walkin’ +on our land in the middle o’ the night—with +whatever intentions—we think the time has come +for talkin’.”</p> +<p>“Andy! Jeff! Is that you?” Creed, the rash, +called over his shoulder to the two behind him.</p> +<p>An inarticulate growl answered, and then a +boyish voice began,</p> +<p>“Yo’ mighty free with folks’ names, you Creed +Bonbright. Me and my brother both told you +what we thought o’ you when you come to the +jail. I told you then you’d be run out of the +Turkey Tracks ef you tried to come up here. We +don’t want no spies.”</p> +<p>“Spies!” echoed Creed with a rising note of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +anger in his voice. “Who said I was a spy? +What should I be spying on?”</p> +<p>“Yo’ friend Mr. Dan Haley might ’a’ said you +was a spy,” suggested Andy’s higher pitched tones. +“As for what you’d be a-spyin’ on you know best. +We’re all mighty peaceable, law-abidin’ folks in +the Turkey Tracks. I don’t know of nothin’ that +we’re apt to break the law about ’less’n it would +be beatin’ up and runnin’ out a spy that——”</p> +<p>The childish bravado of this speech evidently +displeased Blatch, who wanted the thing done +and over with. His heavier, grating tones broke +in,</p> +<p>“They’s jest one thing to be said to you, Creed +Bonbright. You’ve got to get out of the Turkey +Tracks—and get quick. Air ye goin’?”</p> +<p>“No!” Creed flung back at him. “When I take +my orders from you it will be a mighty cold day. +I came up here in the Turkey Tracks to do a good +work among my own people. I’m going to stay +here and do it in my own way. Is that you, +Wade Turrentine? What have you got to say +to me?”</p> +<p>The second of the men who faced him stirred +uneasily at the mention of his name. It rankled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +in the expectant bridegroom’s heart that all he +could complain of concerning Creed Bonbright +was that Huldah had thrown herself in his way +and forced a kiss upon him—not that Bonbright +had been the amatory aggressor!</p> +<p>“I say what Blatch says,” growled Wade as +though the words stuck in his throat.</p> +<p>More and more the whole thing was like a +nightmare to Creed; he felt as though with +sufficient effort he might throw it off and wake. +The four men hung at the path-side eyeing him, +motionless if he were still, moving only if he +stirred. Even this scarcely gave him a complete +understanding of the gravity of his situation.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said finally, “I’m going on home. +If any of you boys has anything to say to me, +to-morrow or any day after—you know where to +find me.”</p> +<p>He made as though to pass; but Blatch Turrentine +stepped swiftly to the middle of the pathway +and stood breathing a little short.</p> +<p>“No, by God, we don’t!” he panted. “Ef +we let you to go this night—we don’t know whar +we’ll ever find you again. Mebbe you’ve got +yo’ budget made up—on yo’ way to yo’ friend +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +Mr. Dan Haley right now. <i>Ye don’t go from +here</i>!”</p> +<p>Instinctively Creed fell back a step. It was +out at last—this was neither more nor less than a +waylaying. Did they mean to kill him? Blatch +Turrentine had crouched where he stood, and +even as the question went through the victim’s +mind, he launched himself with that sudden +frightful quickness bodily upon Creed.</p> +<p>It would seem that the slighter man must be +borne down by the onset. But Bonbright gathered +himself, his arms shot out and gripped his +assailant midway. Struggling, panting, gasping, +stamping, they wrenched and swayed, the three +who watched them holding aloof. Then with a +sheer effort of strength Creed tore the heavier +man from his footing and lifted him clear of the +ground.</p> +<p>With a little sobbing oath Andy ran in. Bonbright +could have heaved the man he held over his +shoulder in that terrific fall well known to deadly +wrestling. Wade’s stern, “Sst! Git back there!” +stopped the boy. Even as Creed’s muscles +knotted themselves to the supreme effort came +sudden memory of what he must stand for to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +these people. It was his right to defend his own +life; he must not, in any extremity, take that of +another. His grip relaxed. Turrentine partially +got his feet again; his arms were free; the right +made a swift movement, and Creed caught the +gleam of a knife-blade. Without volition of his +own he flung all his weight and strength into one +mighty movement that hurled man and weapon +from him.</p> +<p>Plunging, staggering, clutching at the air, +Turrentine gave ground. The moonlight flickered +on the blade in his upflung hand as, with a +strangled hoarse cry he reeled backward over +the bluff.</p> +<p>There was a rending sound of breaking branches, +a noise of rolling rocks; then deadly silence. For +a long moment the men left standing on the cliff +strained eyes and ears to where Blatch had gone +down, then,</p> +<p>“Keep off!” shouted Creed as the three +others began silently to close in on him. +“Stand back, boys. We’ve had enough of +this. Draw off and let me get down and see +what’s happened to him.” He kept slowly +backing away, striving not to be hemmed in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +against the rock behind him. The others warily +followed.</p> +<p>“Let you down and finish him, ye mean—don’t +ye?” screamed Andy with all a boy’s senseless +rage.</p> +<p>“You’re a fine one to bring law and order into +the Turkey Tracks,” Wade taunted savagely. +“You’ve brought murder—that’s what you’ve +done.”</p> +<p>“He drew a knife on me,” cried Bonbright. +“You all saw that. I only shoved him away. +I never meant to throw him over the bluff.”</p> +<p>“Nobody seen no knife but you, Creed Bonbright,” +Jeff doggedly asseverated. “All three +of us seen you fling Blatch over the bluff. You +ain’t in no court of law now. Yo’ lies won’t do +you no good. Yo’ where we kill the feller that +done the killin’.”</p> +<p>“How?” said Creed, still backing, feeling his +way slowly, seeking for some break in the rise +behind, the others coming a little closer. “By +jumpin’ on to him somewhere out at night, four +to one—or even three to one?”</p> +<p>“Yes, by God! thataway, ef we cain’t do it no +better way,” panted Wade. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></p> +<p>Years before—heaven knows how many—a +little seep of water began to gather between two +huge stones in the small broken bluff behind +Creed. Winter after winter the crevice through +which the trickle came enlarged, the water caught +in a natural basin and froze with all its puny +might to heave the stones apart. The winter +before this slow process had closed leaving a +wedge of rock trembling upon its base, ready to +fall into a crevice. Yet the opening was masked +with vine leaves, and when the spring rains +finally washed away the mould and the crude +doorway tottered and sank, the gap thus left was +unnoted, invisible to the sharpest eye.</p> +<p>Bonbright pressing close against the rock to +pass, stepping warily when it was forward, but +hugging his barrier as a safety, missed his footing, +and slipped almost without a sound into this +opening. For a moment he sustained himself +holding to tree roots, hearkening to the voices +of those above him.</p> +<p>“Wade—you fool! What did you let him get +a-past you for?”</p> +<p>And then Wade’s heavier tones, “I didn’t. He +run back yo’ way.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span></p> +<p>He could hear their footsteps pounding to and +fro, their hoarse cries which finally settled down +into a demand for a lantern.</p> +<p>“We can’t find Blatch nor do nothing for +him, nor git on the track of Bonbright nor nothin’ +else, without a lantern. You Jeff, run round +to the still; me and Andy’ll go back and fetch +pap.”</p> +<p>Creed sought cautiously for footing, lost all +hold, and began a headlong descent.</p> +<p>Low limbs thrashed his face and body; again +and again his head was dashed against rocks or +tree stems; his forehead was gashed; the blood +poured into his eyes; he rolled and bounded and +slid down and down and down the crevice, and +into the ravine, bruised, bleeding, breathless, +blinded and choked by blood and earth and +gravel. He was more than half unconscious +when he brought up at last with a rib-smashing +thump upon a sapling, and there he clung like a +dazed animal, gasping.</p> +<p>Slowly, as his breath came back to him, and he +cleared the blood and dust from his eyes, Creed +became aware of a dim glow coming through the +bushes in one direction. For some time he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +watched it, making ready to get away as quickly +as possible, since this must be on Blatch Turrentine’s +land, and the light came probably from +some of Blatch’s party searching for Turrentine +himself, or for Creed.</p> +<p>But when he noted that the illumination was +steady and stationary, he began to move hesitatingly +in its direction. He had gone probably two +or three hundred feet when he came to a place +whence he had an unobstructed view. The light +shone out from the cramped opening of a cave. +He went nearer in a sort of daze. There was +nobody to intercept him, Blatch and the boys, +whom he had left on the bluff above, when he so +unexpectedly descended from it, being the only +sentinels out. No approach was looked for from +the quarter where he now was, and he found himself, +gazing directly into Blatch Turrentine’s blockaded +still. He could distinctly see Jim Cal and the +fellow Taylor Stribling moving about within the +cave. They were attending to a run of whiskey. +While Bonbright stood motionless, not yet fully +comprehending the sinister colour his presence +might wear, there was the thud of running footsteps, +Jeff Turrentine rounded the boulder on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +other side of the cave and called aloud to those +within,</p> +<p>“Jim Cal! Taylor! Buck! Creed Bonbright’s +killed Blatch—flung him clean over the bluff—and +got plumb away from us! Bring a lantern +you-all. We’ve got to hunt for Blatch in under +Foeman’s Bluff—I’ll show you whar.”</p> +<p>Silently Creed drew back into the dense undergrowth. +He knew where he was, now. As he +retreated swiftly in the opposite direction from +that in which Jeff had approached, he could +vaguely hear the excited voices at the still, +questioning, replying, denouncing, exclaiming. +Presently he came out upon the main trail, +rounded the Gulch, heading for the big road and +Nancy Card’s cabin, his soul sick within him at +the events of the evening, bitterly regretting the +explicit and unwelcome knowledge of the secret +still which had been forced upon him, feeling +himself now a spy indeed—a spy and a murderer.</p> +<p>He walked with long nervous strides; beaten +and bruised though he was, he was unconscious +of fatigue; the grief and regret that surged within +him were as an anodyne to physical pain, and it +was less than half an hour later that he opened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +the door of Nancy Card’s cabin, his white face +scratched and bleeding, his torn hands, too, covered +with blood, his clothing rent and earth-stained, +his eyes wild and pain-bright.</p> +<p>“Good Lord, boy! What’s the matter with +ye?” cried the old woman, coming toward him in +terror, both hands out. “I sot up for ye, ’caze +Pony he jest come from Hepzibah an’ said that +spiled-rotten Andy an’ that feisty Jeff ’lowed ye +was a spy an’ they was a-goin’ to run ye out of +the Turkey Tracks.”</p> +<p>She laid hold of him and examined him with +anxious eyes.</p> +<p>“I was plumb werried about ye. I knowed in +reason they was a-goin’ to be trouble at that fool +play-party.”</p> +<p>“No, I ain’t hurt, Aunt Nancy,” said Creed +desolately, and he stared past her at the wall. +“But looks to me like I’m cursed. I meant so +well——” He choked on the word. “I’d just had +a talk with—She said—we—I thought that everything +was about to come right. And now—I’ve +killed Blatch Turrentine, and I’ve just got away +from the others. They was all after me.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='X_A_SPY' id='X_A_SPY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +<h2>Chapter X</h2> +<h3>A Spy</h3> +</div> + +<p>Old Jephthah was winding the clock when the +door—which he had closed some time ago +after the last retiring guests—flung violently open, +Andy paused, flying foot on the threshold, and +gasped out hoarsely,</p> +<p>“Pap—Creed Bonbright’s killed Blatch and +got away from us!”</p> +<p>The Lusk girls had staid to help Judith clear up, +intending to remain over night unless Andy and +Jeff returned in time to take them home. The +three young women working at the table lifted +pale faces; Pendrilla let fall the plate in her +hand and broke it. Unconscious of the fact, she +stood staring with open mouth at the fragments by +her feet. Jephthah took one more turn mechanically, +then withdrew the key and laid it down.</p> +<p>“Whar at?” he inquired briefly.</p> +<p>“Up on our place,” said Wade who now +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +appeared at the boy’s side. “Bonbright throwed +him over Foeman’s Bluff.”</p> +<p>“How come it?” queried the head of the tribe.</p> +<p>“They was a fussin’,” began Andy, but his +father interrupted him in a curious tone.</p> +<p>“Foeman’s Bluff,” he repeated. “What tuck +Bonbright thar at this time o’ night?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” panted Jim Cal’s voice +in the darkness outside. He had come straight +from the still instead of going with Jeff and the +others to search; and for all his flesh he had overtaken +his brothers. But there was none now to +demand sardonically why he fled the seat of war +and ran to the paternal shelter for re-enforcements. +“Ef folks go nosin’ around whar they ain’t wanted, +sometimes they git what they don’t like,” he +concluded.</p> +<p>Judith, very pale, had parted her lips to utter +words of indignant defence, and denial of this +broad imputation, but before she could speak +Huldah Spiller irrupted into the room, her red +curls flying, her bodice clutched about her in such +a fashion as to suggest she had been undressing +when the news reached her.</p> +<p>The mountain woman with temperament is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +reduced to the outlets of such occasions as these, +or revival seasons and funerals; and Huldah +Spiller, having abandoned the protesting Iley +with her babies, whom the mother could not +leave alone, meant to make the most of the +occasion.</p> +<p>“You-all ain’t got no right to talk the way +you do about Creed,” the red-haired girl burst out. +“Him and me’s been friends ever sence I went to +Hepzibah, and there ain’t a better man walks +the earth. Ef he done anything to Blatch hit +was becaze Blatch laywayed him an’ jumped on +him, an’ he had to. Oh, Lord!” and she began +to weep, “I wish’t my daddy was here—I jest +wish Pap Spiller was here. Pore Creed! Ef you-all +git yo’ hands on him, mad thisaway, the +Lord knows what will be did!”</p> +<p>Jephthah regarded his postulant daughter-in-law +from under lowered, bushy brows.</p> +<p>“Kin you make her hush?” he inquired of +Wade.</p> +<p>“I ain’t got no interest in makin’ her hush nor +makin’ her holler,” returned Wade contemptuously. +Dishonoured before his clan, his male +dignity sadly shorn, his woman shrieking out the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +wrongs and excellences of another man—and +that man a young and well-favoured enemy—his +bitterness may be forgiven.</p> +<p>“Fetch the lantern,” ordered Jephthah briefly. +“We-all have got to git over thar and see to this +business.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll hush—but I’m goin’ along,” +volleyed Huldah.</p> +<p>“Le’s us go too, Jude,” pleaded Cliantha Lusk +in a trembling whisper. “I’m scared to be left +here in the house with the men all gone. He +might take a notion to come and raid the place +and kill us. They do thataway in feud times. +My gran’ mammy——”</p> +<p>“Do hush!” choked Judith. But she hurried +out in the wake of the departing men, Cliantha +clinging to one arm, Pendrilla to the other.</p> +<p>They left the doors open, the candles flaring, +and nobody to guard but the toothless old hound +who slept and snored on the chip pile.</p> +<p>The journey to Foeman’s Bluff, following the +flicker of the lantern in Wade’s hand, with the +voices of the men coming back to her, hoarse, +fragmentary, ejaculatory, reciting Creed’s offences +asseverating that they had expected nothing else, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +was like a nightmare to Judith. When Cliantha +screamed and clung to her and said she thought +she saw Creed Bonbright in the bushes by the +path-side, Judith shook her off angrily, but let +the clamouring little thing creep back and make +her peace.</p> +<p>“I forgot about you and Blatch—Oh, po’ +Judy!” moaned Cliantha. “Ef hit was me goin’ +to s’arch for the murdered body of my true +love I don’t know as I could put foot befo’ +foot!”</p> +<p>“The trail’s mighty narrow here—I’ll go in +front,” said Judith. She freed herself, and thereafter +walked alone with bent head.</p> +<p>As they descended into the hollow Andy began +to hoo-ee; and finally he was answered from the +neighbourhood of the bluff. Up this they climbed, +since on this side they were cut off from the region +below it by an impassable gulley. Halting on +the top and looking down, they could see a lantern +moving about and catch faint sound of the men’s +voices.</p> +<p>“Who’s down thar?” Jephthah’s big rolling +bass sent out the call. There was an ominous +hesitation before Jeff’s perturbed tones replied, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>“Hit’s me, pap, me an’ Buck Shalliday an’ +Taylor Stribling.”</p> +<p>Andy found a tall tree at the bluffs edge, and +began to descend through its branches with the +swiftness and agility of a monkey.</p> +<p>“How is he—is he alive?”</p> +<p>The old man put the query at the edge of the +gulf, stooping, peering over. Jim Cal sat down +suddenly and began wiping his forehead. The +moonlight showed his round face very pale under +its beaded sweat.</p> +<p>“Andy’ll git hisself killed!” whimpered Pendrilla.</p> +<p>And Huldah broke into loud hysteric weeping, +on the tide of which “Creed—Pap Spiller—Blatch +Turrentine” were cast up now and again.</p> +<p>“Hush, cain’t ye?” demanded Jephthah, angrily; +“I cain’t hear one word they answer me down +thar. Hello, boys. Is he livin’?”</p> +<p>Andy had evidently reached the searchers at +the foot of the cliff. Loud, confused voices came +up to those above. Finally,</p> +<p>“W’y, Pap, we ain’t never found him,” Jeff +called.</p> +<p>“Ye <i>what</i>?” demanded the father incredulously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></p> +<p>“We ain’t—never—found him,” reiterated Jeff +doggedly.</p> +<p>The old man drew back sharply with a look of +swift anger in his face.</p> +<p>“Well, ef ye hain’t found him by now ye better +quit lookin’, hadn’t ye?” he suggested as he +straightened to his full height and turned his back.</p> +<p>“Creed Bonbright’s jest about been here an’ +hid the body, that’s what he’s done,” Taylor +Stribling clamoured after him in futile explanation. +But the old man gave no heed. Lantern +in hand, he was already addressing himself to +a careful examination of the scene of the struggle. +The torn vines where Creed had fallen through +the fissure instantly caught his eye.</p> +<p>“Come up here, you-all!” he turned and +shouted toward the gulf. He swung his lantern far +out over the crevice. “Look at that,” he said +quietly. “Thar’s whar yo’ man got away from +ye.” He handed the lantern to Wade, and swung +himself lightly down where Creed had fallen.</p> +<p>“Better let me go, Pap,” said Wade, and Judith +mutely stared after the old man as he disappeared +into the dark.</p> +<p>For fifteen minutes or more the watchers on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +the cliff waited and trembled, straining ears and +eyes. In that time they were joined by those from +the foot of the bluff, all but Stribling, who, the boys +said, had “gone on home.” Then they heard +sounds of clambering in the cleft, and the old +man’s face appeared in the well of inky shadow, +pale, the black eyes burning, the great black +beard flowing backward to join the darkness +behind him. Wade held his lantern high. It +lit a circle of faces on which terror, anger, and +distress wrought. Judith could scarcely look at +her uncle, and a great trembling shook her limbs, +so that she laid hold of a little sapling by which +she stood, and closed her eyes.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the old man on a falling note, and +his voice sounded hollowly from the cleft, “well, +I reckon this does settle it—whether Blatch is +hurt or no. How many of ye was a-workin’ in +the still to-night?”</p> +<p>“I was,” quavered Jim Cal; “me and Taylor +Stribling and Buck Shalliday. Blatch had left a +run o’ whiskey that had to be worked off, and +when he didn’t come I turned in to ’tend to it—why, +Pap?”</p> +<p>“Ef Bonbright wanted to find out about the still +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +he shore made it, that’s all,” answered Jephthah. +“Ye can see right into it from whar he went. Ef +you-all boys wants to stay out o’ the penitentiary +I reckon Creed Bonbright’s got to leave the Turkey +Tracks mighty sudden,” and he swung himself +heavily to the level of the cliff.</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” whispered Jim Cal, pasty +pale and quivering. “We’ve got it to do.”</p> +<p>Old Jephthah looked darkly upon his sons.</p> +<p>“Well, settle it amongst ye, how an’ when. I’ll +neither meddle nor make in this business. I don’t +know how all o’ this come about, nor what you-all +an’ Blatch Turrentine air up to. You’ve made +an outsider o’ me, an’ an outsider I’ll stay. Ef +ye won’t tell me the truth, don’t tell me no lies. +Come on, gals.”</p> +<p>He strode into the homeward trail, the four +girls falling in behind his tall figure. Judith +was sick with misery and uncertainty; the Lusk +girls looked back timidly at Andy and Jeff; even +Huldah was mute.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XI_THE_WARNING' id='XI_THE_WARNING'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +<h2>Chapter XI</h2> +<h3>The Warning</h3> +</div> + +<p>Five o’clock Friday morning found Creed, pale, +hollow-eyed, a strip of Nancy’s home-made +sticking plaster over the cut on brow and cheek, +but otherwise composed and as usual, at the pine +table in his little shack, working over the references +which applied to the case he was to try that +morning. But an hour later brought old Keziah +Provine to the door to borrow the threading of a +needle with white thread.</p> +<p>“I hearn they had an interruption,” she began, +pushing in past Nancy and the two children, +“but thar—you kin hear anything these days +and times. They most gen’ally does find trouble +at these here play-parties, that’s why I’m sot +agin ’em.”</p> +<p>Poor old soul, it was not on account of her +rheumatic legs, her toothless jaws, nor her half-blind +eyes that she objected to play-parties, of +course. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p> +<p>“I got no use for ’em,” she pursued truthfully, +“specially when they’re started up too +close to a blockade still. They named it to me +that Creed had done killed one of the Turrentine +boys—is that so?”</p> +<p>“No,” returned Nancy stoutly. “By the best +of what I kin git out o’ Creed, him and Blatch +was walkin’ along, an’ Blatch missed his footin’ +and fell off o’ Foeman’s Bluff. Creed tried to +he’p him, an’ fell an’ got scratched some. I +reckon the Turrentines’ll tell it different, but +that’s what I make out from what Creed says.”</p> +<p>“Lord, how folks will lie!” admired Keziah, +piously. “Now they tell that Blatch was not +only killed up, but that some one—Creed, or +some o’ them that follers him—tuck the body +away befo’ they could git to it. They say they +was blood all over the bushes, an’ a great drug +place whar Blatch had been toted off. One feller +named a half-dug hole sorter like a grave; but +thar! I never went over to see for myse’f, an’ ye +cain’t believe the half o’ what ye hear.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’d say not,” snapped Nancy. “Not +ef hit was sech a pack o’ lies as that.”</p> +<p>Thread in hand old Keziah lingered till Arley +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +Kittridge came with his mother’s baking-pan +and request for a little risin’. Arley it seemed had +been commissioned to find out what he could on +behalf of the Kittridge family. And so it went +till breakfast-time.</p> +<p>How these things travel in a neighbourhood +where there is no telephone, postman, milkman, +nor morning paper, and where the distances are +considerable, is one of the mysteries of the mountains—yet +travel they do, and when time came +for court to open Creed found that he had a crowd +which would at any other juncture have been +highly gratifying.</p> +<p>Every man that came in glanced first at the cut +on his cheek, swiftly noted the pale face, sunken, +purple-rimmed eyes, the scratched hands, then +looked hastily away. Several made proffers of +an alliance with him, being at outs with the +Turrentines. All reiterated the story of the +missing body.</p> +<p>“You done exactly right,” old Tubal Kittridge +told him. “With a man like Blatchley Turrentine, +hit’s hit first or git hit. I wonder he ever +let ye git as far as Foeman’s Bluff; but if you +made good use o’ yo’ time, I reckon you found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +out what you aimed to,” and he winked laboriously +at poor Creed’s crimsoning countenance.</p> +<p>“I wasn’t trying to find out anything, Mr. +Kittridge. Blatch forced the quarrel upon me. +I was on my way home at the time.”</p> +<p>“Well, a lee-tle out of yo’ way, wasn’t ye?” +objected Kittridge, slightly offended at not being +offered Bonbright’s confidence.</p> +<p>The case on the docket, one that had interested +Creed deeply, being the curious matter of a +mountain creek which in the spring storms had +changed its direction, scoured off a good field +and flung it to the opposite side of the road, thus +giving it to a new owner, dragged wearily. Who +cared about the question of a few rods of mountain +land, even if it had raised good tobacco, when the +slayer of one of the bullies of the neighbourhood +sat before them—a man who had not only killed +his victim but had, within fifteen minutes, hidden +all traces of the body—and the opening of a new +feud was taking place before their eyes?</p> +<p>At noon Creed, in despair, adjourned his court, +setting a new date for trial, explaining that this +Turrentine matter ought to be looked into, and he +believed it was not a proper day for him to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +otherwise engaged. Then he sought old Tubal +Kittridge.</p> +<p>“There’s something I want you to do for me,” +he said.</p> +<p>“Shore—shore; anything in the world,” Kittridge +agreed eagerly.</p> +<p>“Aunt Nancy won’t hear of my going over to +the Turrentines’,” hesitated Creed. “I looked +for them to be here—some of them—long before +this.”</p> +<p>“Huh-uh; ah, Law, no—they won’t come in the +daytime,” smiled Kittridge.</p> +<p>Creed looked annoyed.</p> +<p>“They will be welcome, whenever they come,” +he asserted. “What I want you to do is to go to +Jephthah Turrentine and say to him that I thought +I ought to go over, and that I’ll do so now if he +wants me to—or I’ll meet him here at the office, +or anywhere he says.”</p> +<p>“Huh-uh—uh!” Old Tubal shook his head, +his eyes closed in quite an ecstasy of negation. +“You cain’t git Jep Turrentine in the trap as +easy as all that,” he said half contemptuously. +“Why, he’d know what you was at a leetle too +quick.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p> +<p>Bonbright looked helpless indignation for a +moment, then thought better of it and +repeated:</p> +<p>“I want you to go and tell him that I’m right +here, ready to answer for anything I’ve done, and +that I would like to talk to him about it. Will +you do it?”</p> +<p>“Oh,—all right,” agreed Kittridge in an +offended tone. “There’s plenty would stand +by ye; there’s plenty that would like to see the +Turrentines run out of the country; but if ye +want to fix it some new-fangled way I reckon +you’ll have to.” And to himself he muttered as +he took the road homeward, “I say go to the +Turrentines with sech word at that! That boy +must think I’m as big a fool as he is.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>At the Turrentine home life dragged on strangely. +Jephthah in his own cabin, busied himself overhauling +some harness. The boys had been across +at the old place, presumably making a thorough +inspection of the scene of the trouble. Judith +went mechanically about her tasks, cooking and +serving the meals, setting the house in order. +Only once did she rouse somewhat, and that was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +when Huldah Spiller flounced in and flung herself +tempestuously down in a chair.</p> +<p>“How you come on, Judy?” inquired the red-haired +damsel.</p> +<p>“About as usual,” returned Judith coldly, +and would fain have added, “none the better +for seeing you.”</p> +<p>“I jest had to run over and see how you was +standin’ it,” Huldah pursued vivaciously. “I +cried all night—didn’t you?”</p> +<p>“What for?” inquired Judith angrily.</p> +<p>“Oh—I don’t know. I’m jest thataway. +Git me started an’ thar’s no stoppin’ me. But +then I’ve knowed Creed so mighty long—him an’ +me was powerful good friends, and my feelin’s +is more tenderer than some folks’s anyhow.”</p> +<p>“Huldy,” said Judith in a tone so rigidly +controlled that it made the other jump, “ef +you’ll jest walk yo’self out of here I’ll be obliged +to you. I’ve stood all I can. I don’t want to +say anything plumb bad to you, but ef you set +thar an’ talk to me like that for another minute +I will.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you po’ thing!” cried Huldah, jumping to +her feet. “I declare to goodness I forgot all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +about you an’ Blatch. Here I’ve been carryin’ +on over Creed Bonbright—and you mighty near a +widder. You po’ thing!”</p> +<p>Judith faced around with such blazing eyes +from the biscuits she was moulding that Huldah +beat a hasty retreat, dodged out of the door, and +ran up the slope. At Jim Cal’s cabin she paused +and looked about her uncertainly. Iley had the +toothache, and for various reasons was proving +a poor audience for her younger sister’s conversation. +The day had been a trying one to Huldah’s +excited nerves, a sad anti-climax after the explosions +of the night before. It was five o’clock. +The men were all over at the old place. If she +but had an excuse to follow them, now. Why, +the whole top of the Bald above Foeman’s Bluff, +and the broad shelf below it, were covered with +huckleberry bushes! She put her head in at the +door. Iley looked up from the hot brick which +she was wrapping in a wet cloth with ten drops +of turpentine on it preparatory to applying the +same to her cheek above the swollen tooth.</p> +<p>“Ef you say ‘Creed Bonbright’—or ‘kill’—or +‘Blatch Turrentine,’—to me, I vow I’ll hit ye,” +she warned shrilly. “I ain’t never raised hand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +on ye yet sence ye was a woman grown, but do it +I will!”</p> +<p>“I wasn’t goin’ to say nothin’ about nothin’,” +asserted Huldah sweepingly. “I was jest goin’ +to ax did ye want any huckleberries, and git a +pail to pick some.”</p> +<p>She sought out a small tin lard bucket as she +spoke, and Iley’s silence presumably assenting, +within twenty minutes was picking away eagerly +on the Bald above the bluff.</p> +<p>Below her stretched meadows drunk with +sun—breathless. A rain crow called from time to +time “C-c-c-cow! cow! cow!” The air was still +heavy with faint noon-day smells, the sky tarnished +with heat.</p> +<p>“I wonder where in all creation them boys +has got theirselves to,” she ruminated as she +peered about, dragging green berries and leaves +into her bucket, for which Mrs. Jim Cal would +afterward no doubt scold her soundly. “’Pears +to me like I hearn somebody talkin’ somewhars.”</p> +<p>She pushed cautiously down to the edge of the +rocks where the bushes grew scatteringly, pretending +to herself that she wanted a bit of wild +geranium that flourished in a crevice far below +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +the top. Setting down her pail she threw herself +on her face, her arms over the edge, and reached. +But the fingers hung suspended, opened in air, +her mouth open too, and she listened greedily +to faint sounds of men’s voices.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet it’s old Ab Foeman’s hideout that +nobody but him and the Cherokees knowed of,” +she muttered to herself. “Some one’s found it +and—Lord, look at that!”</p> +<p>From the bushes below her, coming apparently +out of the living rock itself, crept Andy, and then +Jeff Turrentine. Now she could see the narrow, +door-like opening of the cave which had given +them up, and realised how, from below, it passed +for a mere depression in the rock.</p> +<p>Huldah drew back silently, inch by inch, and +instinctively pulled her black calico sunbonnet +over her red curls as she crouched down among +the huckleberry bushes. When she looked again +Andy and Jeff had disappeared, but she could see +the head and shoulders of a man who still lay +at the cave’s mouth—and that man was Blatch +Turrentine!</p> +<p>At first she shuddered, thinking that she had +come upon the dead body; then she noted a tiny +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +trail of smoke, and, by craning a little farther +around, saw that Blatchley lay at ease with a +pipe in his mouth, smoking.</p> +<p>“The triflin’, low-down, lyin’ hound!” she +muttered to herself. “I’m a-goin’ this very +minute and tell Creed Bonbright.”</p> +<p>She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder in the +direction of the Turrentine cabin, then bent +dubiously and set up her overturned bucket. +Not a berry had spilled from it, yet the sight of +its mishap gave her an idea. Quietly slipping +through the bushes till she was far enough away +to dare run, she hurried home to the cabin.</p> +<p>“Iley,” she gasped, as soon as she put her head +in at the door, “I upsot my berry pail and lost +most of the fruit. Can you make out with that?” +and she set the little bucket on the table.</p> +<p>“I reckon I’ll have to, ef you’ve got so work-brickle +ye won’t pick any more,” returned Iley.</p> +<p>“I would—I’d git ye all ye need,” protested +Huldah with unexpected meekness, “but I’m +jest obliged to go over to—” she had all but said +Creed Bonbright’s, but she caught herself in +time and concluded lamely. “I jest have obliged +to run down to Clianthy Lusk’s and see can she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +let me have her crochet needle for to finish up +my shawl.”</p> +<p>She delayed for no criticism or demur on Iley’s +part, but was off with the last word, and once out +of sight of Jim Cal’s cabin she took a short cut +through the woods and ran; but in spite of her +best efforts darkness began to gather before she +won to the high road, for the evening had closed +in early, thick and threatening; a mountain +thunder-storm was brewing. Opposite a tempestuous, +magnificent sunset, there had reared +in the eastern sky a tremendous thunder-head, +a palace of a thousand snowy domes, turning to +gold, and then flushing from base to crown like +a gigantic many-petalled rose. It swept steadily +up and over, hiding the sky, and leaving the +earth in almost complete darkness. There were +low rolls of thunder, at first mellow and almost +musical, crashing always louder and stronger as +they came nearer. The wind thrashed and +yelled through the tossing forest; and as she +approached the Card cabin she heard the banging +of barn shutters, the whipping of tree boughs +against the windows. There were the first +spears of rain flung at roof and door; and it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +in the torrent itself which followed fast that +Huldah beat upon that closed door, giving her +name and demanding entrance. Within, Creed +Bonbright sprang up from where he sat with a +book in his hand, his eyes fixed on vacancy, and +would have answered her, but Old Nancy put +a hasty palm over his lips.</p> +<p>“Hush—for God’s sake,” she whispered.</p> +<p>They stood in the lighted cabin, all on foot by +this time, and listened intently, tall Creed, the +little grey-haired woman clinging to him and +restraining him, Doss with his light eyes goggling, +and Little Buck and Beezy hand in hand, studying +their grandmother’s face, not their father’s.</p> +<p>“Who is it?” quavered Nancy. “I’m all alone +in here, and I’m scared to let wayfarers in.”</p> +<p>“It’s me—Huldy Spiller—Aunt Nancy,” called +back the voice in the rain.</p> +<p>“Well, I vow! You know how things air, Huldy—what +do ye want, chile?”</p> +<p>“I want Creed Bonbright. I’ve got something +to tell him.”</p> +<p>“Thar—ye see now,” breathed the old woman, +turning toward Creed. Then she raised her +voice. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p> +<p>“He ain’t here, honey,” she lied unhesitatingly.</p> +<p>“Why don’t ye go to his office—that’s whar +he stays at.”</p> +<p>“Oh, for the Lord’s sake—Aunt Nancy!” came +back the girl’s shrill, terrified tones. “I’ve +done been to the office; I know in reason Creed +ain’t there, or he’d a-answered me. Please let me +in; I’m scared some of the Turrentines’ll come +an’ ketch me.”</p> +<p>At this Creed strode to the door, Nancy dragging +back on his arm and Buck and Beezy seconding +her with all their small might, while Provine +spluttered ineffectually in the background.</p> +<p>“Hit’s a lie,” hissed Nancy. “She’s a decoy. +Ef you open that thar do’ with the light on ye, +they’ll shoot ye over her shoulders. Hit was +did to my man thataway in feud times. Don’t +you open the do’ Creed.”</p> +<p>“Why, Aunt Nancy,” remonstrated Creed, +almost smiling, “this isn’t like you. There’s +nothing but a girl there in the rain. Keep out +of range if you’re scared. I’m sure going to +open that door.”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +<img src='images/illus-174.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 341px; height: 504px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 341px;'> +“They stood in the lighted cabin and listened intently.”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>As he made ready to do so Nancy flew back +to the table and blew out the light, and the next +minute Huldah Spiller, dripping like a mermaid, +was standing in the middle of the darkened room, +and Doss Provine, breathing short, was barring +the door behind her.</p> +<p>“Who’s here?” gasped the girl peering about +the gloom. “What air you-all a-goin’ to do to +me?”</p> +<p>Nancy relighted the lamp and set it on the +table, and Huldah discovered with a long-drawn +sobbing sigh of relief that there was no one save +the immediate family present.</p> +<p>“I came quick as I could,” she began in the +middle of her story, grasping Creed by the arm +and shaking him in the violence of her emotion +and insistence. “Blatch Turrentine’s alive. Andy +and Jeff have got him hid out. I seed him myse’f +with my own eyes, in a hideout thar below Foeman’s +Bluff, not more’n a hour ago. I’ll bet he +aims to layway you, ef he cain’t git ye hung for +murderin’ of him. You got to git out o’ here. +It was as much as my life was worth to come over +and tell ye. I’m afraid to go back. I’m goin’ +right on down to Hepzibah and stay thar.”</p> +<p>“Come up closeter to the fire,” commanded +Nancy, who had watched the girl keenly throughout +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +her recital. “Doss, put some sticks on and +git a little blaze so she can dry herself. Huldy, +you’re a good girl to come over and warn Creed—when +was you aimin’ to go to Hepzibah?” She +looked up from the hearth where she knelt with +the frankest inquiring gaze.</p> +<p>“To-night—right now,” half whimpered Huldah. +“I’m scared to go back. I’m scared to +be here on the mountain at all.”</p> +<p>“And did ye aim to have Creed go along of +ye?” old Nancy questioned mildly.</p> +<p>“Yes—yes—he’d better,” agreed Huldah hysterically. +“Hit’s the onliest way for him now.”</p> +<p>Nancy caught Creed’s eye above the girl’s +drenched head, and shook her own warningly. +Leaving Doss to look after the newcomer, she +drew the young justice into the kitchen.</p> +<p>“Whatever ye do,” she warned him hastily, +“don’t you put out with that red-headed gal +in the dark. Things may be adzackly as she says—looks +to me like she thinks she’s a-speakin’ the +truth; but then agin the Turrentines might a’ +sent her for to draw you out. They wouldn’t +like to shoot ye in my cabin, ’caze they know me +and my kinfolks would be apt to raise a fuss; but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +halfway down the mountain with this sweetheart +of Wade’s—huh-uh, boy; I reckon they could +tell their own tale then, of how you come by yo’ +death. Don’t you go with her.”</p> +<p>“I wasn’t aiming to, Aunt Nancy,” said Creed +quietly. “As soon as I heard that Blatch Turrentine +was alive, I intended to go right over and +have a talk with old Jephthah. He’s a fair-minded +man, and if he is informed that his nephew +is living I think he and I can come to terms.”</p> +<p>“Fa’r-minded man!” echoed Nancy contemptuously. +“Jephthah Turrentine a fa’r-minded +man! Well, Creed, ef I hadn’t no better eye +for a fat chicken than you have for a fa’r-minded +man, you wouldn’t enjoy yo’ dinner at my table +as well as you do. I say fa’r-minded! This +thing has got into a feud, boy, and in a feud you +cain’t trust nobody—<i>nobody</i>!”</p> +<p>Creed went back into the room, and Nancy +reluctantly followed him. Huldah was getting +dry and warm, and that fluent tongue of hers +was impatiently silent. As soon as she saw the +returning pair she began to repeat again the +details of her information—how she had glimpsed +the hidden man through the bushes, how she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +knew in reason he could be none other than +Blatch. Nancy exchanged a glance of intelligence +with Creed.</p> +<p>“Ye see!” she murmured, aside. “Ef she +<i>ain’t</i> a decoy they’ve sont, she don’t know nothin’ +for sartin.”</p> +<p>“I’m scared of all the Turrentines,” Huldah +declared. “They’re awful folks. From the old +man down to Jude, they scare me. I reckon +Jude’s had a big hand in this,” she went on +excitedly. “Her and Blatch is goin’ to wed +shortly, and she’d be shore to know any meanness +he was into. I’ll be glad to git shet of sech. +When you’re ready to be a-steppin’ Creed, I am.”</p> +<p>She looked up at the young fellow with a sort +of unwilling worship.</p> +<p>“I don’t aim to go with you, Huldah,” he said +gently. “You love Wade Turrentine, and Wade +loves you; you was to be wedded this fall. I don’t +aim for any affairs of mine to part you two.”</p> +<p>The girl hung her head, painfully flushed, her +eyes full of tears.</p> +<p>“I don’t care nothin’ about Wade,” she choked. +“Him and me has——”</p> +<p>“I reckon you’ve quarrelled” said Creed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +sympathetically. “That needn’t come to anything. +I’m going over and talk to Jephthah +Turrentine to-morrow morning, and I want you +to come with me!”</p> +<p>“No,” said Huldah getting to her feet and +looking strangely at him. “The rain’s about +done now; the moon’ll be comin’ up in half a hour—I’m +a-goin’ on down to Hepzibah, like I said I +was. Ef Wade Turrentine wants me, he knows +whar to come for me. Ef he thinks of me as he said +he did the last time we had speech together—w’y, +I never want to put eyes on his face again. Oh—Creed, +I wish’t you’d come with me!”</p> +<p>“But it was me you quarrelled about,” remonstrated +Bonbright with that sudden clear +vision which ultra-spiritual natures often show, +and that startling forthrightness of speech which +amazes and daunts the mountaineer. “I’m the +last man you ought to leave the mountain with, +Huldah, if you want to make up with Wade.”</p> +<p>“How—how did you know?” whispered the +girl, staring at him. “Well, anyhow, I ain’t +never a-goin’ back thar.”</p> +<p>She could not be prevailed on to go to bed with +Aunt Nancy, when Doss Provine and the children +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +were asleep, and Creed had gone to his quarters +in the little office building, but sat by the fire +all night staring into the embers, occasionally +stirring them or putting on a stick of wood. At +the earliest grey of dawn she waked Nancy, bidding +the elder woman fasten the door after her. +Declining in strangely subdued fashion her hostess’s +offer of hot coffee, she stepped noiselessly out and, +with a swift look about, dived into the steep short-cut +trail which led almost straight down the face +of Big Turkey Track, from turn to turn of the +main road.</p> +<p>A cloud clung to the Side; the foliage of only +the foremost trees emerged from its blur, and +these were dimmed and flatted as though a soft +white veil were tangled among their leaves. Into +this white mystery of dawn the girl had vanished.</p> +<p>Nancy looked curiously after her a moment, +then glanced swiftly about as Huldah had done, +her eyes dwelling long on Creed’s little shack, +standing peaceful in the morning mists. Softly +she turned back, and closed and barred the door.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XII_IN_THE_LION_S_DEN' id='XII_IN_THE_LION_S_DEN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +<h2>Chapter XII</h2> +<h3>In the Lion’s Den</h3> +</div> + +<p>At seven o’clock, despite entreaties and warnings, +Creed mounted his mule and set out +for the Turrentine place.</p> +<p>“Don’t you trust nothin’ nor nobody over thar,” +Nancy followed him out to the gate to reiterate. +“Old Jephthah Turrentine’s as big a rascal as +they’ is unhung. No—I wouldn’t trust Judith +neither (hush now, Little Buck; you don’t know +what granny’s a-talkin’ about); she’s apt to git +some fool gal’s notion o’ being jealous o’ Huldy, +or something like that, and see you killed as cheerful +as I’d wring a chicken’s neck. (For the Lord’s +sake, Doss, take these chil’en down to the spring +branch; they mighty nigh run me crazy with they’ +fussin’ an’ cryin’!) Don’t you trust none on ’em, +boy.”</p> +<p>“Why, Aunt Nancy, I trust everybody on that +whole place, excepting Blatchley Turrentine,” +said Creed sturdily. “Even Andy and Jeff, if I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +had a chance to talk to them, could be got to see +reason. They’re not the bloodthirsty crew you +make them out. They’re good folks.”</p> +<p>She looked at him in exasperation, yet with a +sort of reluctant approval and admiration.</p> +<p>“Well,” she sighed, as she saw him mount and +start, “mebbe yo’ safer goin’ right smack into +the lion’s den, like Dan’el, than you would be to +sneak up.”</p> +<p>Summer was at full tide, and the world had +been new washed last night. Scents of mint and +pennyroyal rose up under his mule’s slow pacing +feet. The meadow that stretched beyond Nancy’s +cabin was a green sea, with flower foam of white +weed and dog-fennel; and the fence row was a +long breaker with surf of elder blossom, the garden +a tangle of bean-vine arbours. The corn patch +rustled valiantly; the pastures were streaked with +pale yellow primroses; and Bob Whites ran through +the young crops, calling.</p> +<p>Creed rode forward. A gay wind was abroad +under the blue sky. Every tiniest leaf that +danced and flirted on its slender stem sent back +gleams of the morning sunlight from its wet, +glistening surface. The woods were full of bird +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +songs, and the myriad other lesser voices of a +midsummer morning sounded clear and distinct +upon the vast, enfolding silence of the mountains.</p> +<p>It seemed beyond reason out in that gay July +sunshine that anything dark or tragic could +happen to one. But after all man cannot be so +different from Nature which produces him, and +the night before had given them a passionate, +brief, destructive thunder-storm. Creed noted +the ravages of it here and there; the broken +boughs, the levelled or uprooted herbage, the +washed and riven soil, as his mule moved soberly +along.</p> +<p>At the Turrentine cabin all was quiet. The +young men of the house had been out the entire +night before guarding the trails that Creed Bonbright +should not leave the mountains secretly. +A good deal of moonshine whiskey went to this +night guarding, particularly when there was the +excuse of a shower to call for it, and the watchers +of the trails now lay in their beds making up +arrears of sleep. Jephthah stood looking out +of his own cabin door when, about fifteen minutes +ahead of Creed, Taylor Stribling tethered his +half-broken little filly in the bushes at the edge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +of the clearing, and ran across the grassy side +yard.</p> +<p>“Bonbright’s out an’ a-headin’ this way!” he +volleyed in a hoarse whisper as he approached +the head of the clan.</p> +<p>“Who’s with him?” asked Jephthah, turning +methodically back into the room for the squirrel +gun over the door.</p> +<p>“Nobody. He ain’t got no rifle. I reckon he’s +packin’ a pistol, though, of course. Nancy Cyard +bawled an’ took on considerable when he started. +Shall I call the boys?”</p> +<p>“No,” returned Jephthah briefly, replacing the +clean brown rifle on its fir pegs. “No, I don’t +need nobody, and I don’t need Old Sister. I +reckon I can deal with one young feller alone.”</p> +<p>He walked unhurriedly toward the main house. +Stribling stood looking after him a moment, uncertainly. +The spy’s errand was performed. He +had now his dismissal; it would not do to be seen +about the place at this time. He went reluctantly +back to the waiting filly, mounted and turned +her head toward a high point that commanded +the big road for some distance. A little later +Jephthah Turrentine sat in the open threshing-floor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +porch of the main house smoking, Judith +within was busy looking over and washing a mess +of Indian lettuce and sissles in a piggin, when Creed +rode into the yard.</p> +<p>The ancient hound thumped twice with a +languid tail on the floor; Judith, back in her +kitchen, stayed her hand, and stared out at +the newcomer with parted lips which the blood +forsook; Jephthah’s inscrutable black eyes rose +to Creed’s face and rested there; nothing but that +aspect, pale, desolate, ravaged, the strip of +plaster running from brow to cheek, marked +the difference between this visit and any +other.</p> +<p>Yet the old house seemed to crouch close, to +regard him askance from under lowering eyes, +as though through all its timbers ran the message +that the enemy was here.</p> +<p>“Good morning,” he hailed.</p> +<p>“Howdy. ’Light—’light and come in,” Jephthah +adjured him, without rising, “I’m proud to +see ye.”</p> +<p>His own countenance was worn and haggard +with sleeplessness and anxiety, but with the +mountaineer’s dignified reticence he passively +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +ignored the fact, assuming a detached manner +of mild jocularity.</p> +<p>Creed, under inspection from six pairs of eyes, +though there was only one individual visible to +him, got from his mule, tethered the animal, and +came and seated himself on the porch edge.</p> +<p>“Aunt Nancy didn’t want me to come over +this morning,” he began with that directness +which always amazed his Turkey Track neighbours +and put them all astray as to the man, his real +meaning and intentions.</p> +<p>“Well, now—didn’t she?” inquired the other +innocently. “Hit was a fine mornin’ for a ride, +too, and I ’low ye’ had yo’ reasons for comin’ +in this direction—not but what we’re proud to +see ye on business or on pleasure.”</p> +<p>“Are any of the boys about?” asked Creed, +suddenly looking up.</p> +<p>“I don’t know adzackly whar the boys is at,” +compromised Jephthah, soothing his conscience +with the fiction that one might be lying in one +bed and another in some place to him unknown. +“Was there any particular one you wanted to +see?”</p> +<p>“I was looking for Wade,” said Creed briefly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +and a silent shock went through one of the men +kneeling on the bed inside the log wall, peering +through a chink at the visitor.</p> +<p>Judith could bear the strain no longer. Torn +by diverse emotions, she snatched up a bucket, +ran out of the back door and down to the +spring. Returning with it, and her composure +somewhat repaired, she dipped a cool and +dripping gourdful, walked swiftly through the +front room and stood abruptly before Creed, +presenting it with almost no word of greeting, +only the customary, “Would ye have a fresh +drink?”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Creed taking the gourd +from her hand and lifting his eyes to her face. He +needed no prompting now; his own heart spoke +very clearly; he knew as he looked at her that +she was all the world to him—and that he was +utterly lost and cut off from her.</p> +<p>Jephthah, on the porch, and those unseen eyes +within, watched the two curiously, while Creed +drank from the gourd, emptied out what water +remained, and returned it to Judith, and she all +the while regarded him with a burning gaze, +finally bursting out: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></p> +<p>“What do you want to see Wade about? Is it—is +it Huldy?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Miss Judith, it’s Huldah,” Creed assented +quietly.</p> +<p>“I don’t know as its worth while talkin’ to +Wade about that thar gal,” put in Jephthah +meditatively. “She sorter sidled off last night +and left the place, and I think he feels kinder +pestered and mad like. My boys is all mighty +peaceful in their dispositions, but it ain’t the best +to talk to any man when he’s had that which +riles him.”</p> +<p>“Whar is Huldy Spiller?” demanded Judith +standing straight and tall before the visitor, +disdaining the indirection of her uncle’s methods. +“Is she over at you-all’s?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I wanted to talk to Wade about,” +returned Creed evasively. “Huldah’s a good +girl, and I’m sorry if he thinks—I’d hate to be +the one that——”</p> +<p>For a moment Judith stared at him with +incredulous anger, then she wheeled sharply, +went into the house and shut the door. Creed +turned appealingly to the older man. He had +great faith in Jephthah Turrentine’s good sense +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +and cool judgment. But the young justice +showed in many ways less comprehension of these, +his own people, than an outsider born and bred. +Jephthah Turrentine was no longer to be reckoned +with as a man—he was the head of a tribe, and +that tribe was at war.</p> +<p>“I don’t know as that thar gal is worth namin’ +at this time,” he vouchsafed, almost plaintively. +“Ef she had taken Jim Cal’s Iley ’long with her, I +could fergive the both of ’em and wish ye joy. +As it is, she’s neither here nor thar. Ef you +had nothin’ better to name to my son Wade, +mebbe we’d as well talk of the craps, and about +Steve Massengale settin’ out to run for the +Legislature.”</p> +<p>Creed stood up, and in so doing let the little +packet of papers he held in his hand drop unnoted +to the grass. He scorned to make an appeal for +himself, yet it seemed worth while to let his +adversaries know that he was aware what they +would be at.</p> +<p>“Who found Blatch Turrentine’s body and +removed it?” he asked abruptly.</p> +<p>Blatch’s body,—unknown to his uncle and +Judith—at that moment reposing comfortably +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +upon a bed in the loft room adjoining the porch, +heaved with noiseless chuckles.</p> +<p>Old Jephthah’s eyes narrowed. “We ’low +that ye might answer that question for yo’self,” +he said coolly. “Word goes that you’ve done +hid the body, so murder couldn’t be proved.”</p> +<p>The visitor sighed. He was disappointed. He +had hoped the old man might have admitted—to +him—that Blatch had not been killed.</p> +<p>“Mr. Turrentine,” he began desperately, “I +know what you people believe about me—but +it isn’t true; I’m not a spy. When I came upon +that still, I was running for my life. I never +wanted to know anything about blockaded +stills.”</p> +<p>“Ye talked sort o’ like ye did, here earlier +in the evenin’,” said the old man, rearing himself +erect in his chair, and glaring upon the fool who +spoke out in broad daylight concerning such +matters.</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean that personally,” protested +Creed. “I wish to the Lord I didn’t know +anything about it. I’m sorry it chanced that +I looked in the cave there and saw your son——”</p> +<p>“You needn’t go into no particulars about whar +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +you looked in, nor what you seed, nor call out no +names of them you seed,” cut in the old man’s +voice, low and menacing; and around the corner +of the house Jim Cal, where he had stolen up to +listen, trembled through all the soft bulk of his +body like a jelly; and into his white face the +angry blood rushed.</p> +<p>“Wish ye didn’t know nothin? Yes, and +you’ll wish’t it wuss’n that befo’ yo’re done with +it,” he muttered under his breath.</p> +<p>“I don’t intend to use that or any other information +against a neighbour and a friend,” +Creed went on doggedly. “But they can’t make +me leave the Turkey Tracks. I’m here to stay. +I came with a work to do, and I mean to do it or +die trying.”</p> +<p>The old man’s head was sunk a bit on his +breast, so that the great black beard rose up of +itself and shadowed his lower face. “Mighty +fine—mighty fine,” he murmured in its voluminous +folds. “Ef they is one thing finer +than doin’ what you set out to do, hit’s +to die a-tryin’. The sort of sentiments you +have on hand now is the kind I l’arned myself +out of the blue-backed speller when I was a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +boy. I mind writin’ em out big an’ plain after +the teacher’s copy.”</p> +<p>Creed looked about him for Judith. He had +failed with the old man, but she would understand—she +would know. His hungry heart counselled +him that she was his best friend, and he glanced +wistfully at the door through which she had +vanished; but it remained obstinately closed as +he made his farewells, got dispiritedly to his mule +and away.</p> +<p>Judith watched his departure from an upper +window, smitten to the heart by the drooping +lines of the figure, the bend of the yellow head. +Inexorably drawn she came down the steep stairs, +checking, halting at every step, her breast heaving +with the swift alternations of her mood. The +door of the boys’ room swung wide; her swift +glance descried Wade’s figure just vanishing into +the grove at the edge of the clearing.</p> +<p>The tall, gaunt old man brooded in his chair, +his black eyes fixed on vacancy, the pipe in his +relaxed fingers dropped to his knee. Up toward +the Jim Cal cabin Iley, one baby on her hip and two +others clinging to her skirts, dodged behind a convenient +smoke-house, and peered out anxiously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></p> +<p>Judith stepped noiselessly into the porch; the +old man did not turn his head. Her quick eye +noted the paper Creed had dropped. She stooped +and picked it up unobserved, slipped into the +kitchen, studying its lines of figures which meant +nothing to her, caught up her sunbonnet and, +glancing warily about, made an exit through the +back door. She ran through a long grape-arbour +where great wreathing arms of Virgin’s Bower +aided to shut the green tunnel in from sight, then +took a path where tall bushes screened her, +making for the short cut which she guessed Creed +would take.</p> +<p>Down the little dell through which she herself +had ridden that first day with what wonderful +thoughts of him in her heart, she got sight of him, +going slowly, the lagging gait of the old mule +seeming to speak his own depression. The trees +were all vigorous young second growth here, and +curtained the slopes with billows of green. The +drying ground sent up a spicy mingling of odours—decaying +pine needles, heart leaf, wintergreen +berries, and the very soil itself.</p> +<p>Bumblebees shouldered each other clumsily +about the heads of milk-weed blossoms. Cicada +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +droned in long, loud crescendo and diminuendo +under the hot sun of mid forenoon. A sensitive +plant, or as Judith herself would have said, a +“shame briar,” caught at her skirts as she hastened. +Dipping deeper into the hollow, the man +ahead, riding with his gaze upon the ground, +became aware of the sound of running feet behind +him, and then a voice which made his pulses leap +called his name in suppressed, cautious tones. +He looked back to see Judith hurrying after him, +her cheeks aflame from running, the sunbonnet +carried in her hand, and her dark locks freeing +themselves in little moist tendrils about her brow +where the tiny beads of perspiration gathered.</p> +<p>“You dropped this,” she panted, offering the +paper when she came abreast of him.</p> +<p>For a moment she stood by the old mule’s +shoulder looking up into the eyes of his rider. +It was the reversal of that first day when Creed +had stood so looking up at her. Some memory +of it struggled in her, and appealed for his life, +anyhow, from that fierce primitive jealousy which +would have sacrificed the lover of the other woman.</p> +<p>“I—I knowed the paper wasn’t likely anything +you needed,” she told him. “I jest had to have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +speech with you alone. I want to warn you. +The boys is out after you. They ain’t no hope, +ef the Turrentines gits after you. Likely we’re +both watched right now. You’ll have to leave +the mountains.”</p> +<p>Creed got quickly from the mule and stood +facing her, a little pale and very stern.</p> +<p>“Do you hold with them?” he asked. “I had +no intention of killing Blatch. The quarrel was +forced on me, as they would say if they told the +truth.”</p> +<p>“Well, they won’t tell the truth,” said Judith +impatiently. “What differ does it make how +come it? They’re bound to run ye out. Hit’s +a question of yo’ life ef ye don’t go. I—I don’t +know what makes me come an’ warn ye—but +you and Huldy had better git to the settlement +as soon as ye can.”</p> +<p>Creed saw absolutely nothing in her coupling +of his name with Huldah Spiller’s, but the fact +that both were under the displeasure of the Turrentines. +She searched his face with hungry +gaze for some sign of denial of that which she +imputed. Instead, she met a look of swift +distress. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span></p> +<p>“I’ve got to see Wade about Huldah,” Creed +asserted doggedly. “I promised her—I told +her——”</p> +<p>Judith drew back.</p> +<p>“Well, see Wade then!” she choked. “There +he is,” and she pointed to the wall of greenery +behind which her quicker eyes had detected a +man who stole, rifle on shoulder, through the +bushes toward a point by the path-side.</p> +<p>“What do I care?” she flung at him. “What +is it to me?—you and your Huldy, and your +grand plans, and your killin’ up folks and a-gittin’ +run out o’ the Turkey Tracks! Settle it as best +ye may—I’ve said my last word!”</p> +<p>Her breast heaved convulsively. Bitter, corroding +tears burned in her flashing eyes; rage, +jealousy, thwarted passion, tenderness denied, +and utter terror of the outcome—the time after—all +these tore her like wild wolves, as she turned +and fled swiftly up the path she had come.</p> +<p>The pale young fellow with the marred, stricken +face, standing by the mule, looked after her +heavily. Those flying feet were carrying away +from him, out of his life, all that made that life +beautiful and blest. Yet Creed set his jaw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +resolutely, and facing about once more, addressed +himself to the situation as it was.</p> +<p>“Wade—Wade Turrentine!” he called. “Come +out of there. I see you. Come out and talk +to me.”</p> +<p>With all the composure in life Wade slouched +into the opening of the path.</p> +<p>“You’ve got good eyes,” was his sole comment. +Then, as the other seemed slow to begin, “What +might you want speech with me about?” he +inquired.</p> +<p>“It’s about Huldah,” Creed opened the question +volubly now. “You love her, and she loves +you. She came over to warn me because we are +old acquaintances and friends, and I guess she +don’t want you to get into trouble. Is it true +that her life is not safe if she stays here on the +mountain?”</p> +<p>Wade’s pleasant hazel eyes narrowed and +hardened.</p> +<p>“You’re a mighty busy somebody about things +that don’t consarn ye,” he remarked finally.</p> +<p>“But this does concern me,” Creed insisted. +“I can’t be the cause of breaking up a match +between you and Huldah——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span></p> +<p>He would have gone further, but Wade interrupted +shaking his head.</p> +<p>“No—I reckon you cain’t. Hit’d take more +than you to break up any match I was suited +with. Mebbe I don’t want no woman that’s +liable to hike out and give me away whenever +she takes the notion.”</p> +<p>“Oh, come now, Wade,” said Bonbright, with +good-natured entreaty in his voice. “You know +she wouldn’t give you away. She didn’t mean +any harm to you. I’ll bet you’ve done plenty +of things twice as bad, if Huldah had the knowing +of them.”</p> +<p>“Mebbe I have,” agreed Wade, temperately, +and suddenly one saw the resemblance to his +father. “Mebbe I have—but ye see I ain’t the +one that’s bein’ met up with right now. I ain’t +carin’ which nor whether about Huldy Spiller; +but <i>you’ve</i> got to walk yo’self from the Turkey +Tracks—and walk sudden and walk straight, Mr. +Creed Bonbright—or you’ll come to more trouble +with the Turrentines. I tell ye this in pure good +will.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIII_IN_THE_NIGHT' id='XIII_IN_THE_NIGHT'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +<h2>Chapter XIII</h2> +<h3>In the Night</h3> +</div> + +<p>In dark silence Judith made ready a late +breakfast for the boys, leaving her coffee-pot +as of custom on its bed of coals in the ashes, hot +bread in the Dutch oven, and a platter of meat on +the table. Jeff and Andy straggled in and ate, +helping themselves mutely, with sidelong glances +at her stormy face.</p> +<p>During the entire forenoon Wade was off the +place, but the twins put in their time at the pasture +over the breaking of a colt to harness. Old +Jephthah was in his room with the door shut. +Jim Cal, almost immediately on Creed’s departure, +had retired to the shelter of his own four walls, +and, sick and trembling, taken to his bed, after +his usual custom when the skies of life darkened.</p> +<p>Dinner was got ready with the same fury of +mechanical energy. During its preparation Iley +stole to the door and looked in. The only women +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +on the place, held outside the councils of the men, +she longed to make some unformulated appeal to +Judith, to have at least such help and comfort +as might come from talking over the situation +with her. But when the desolate dark eyes looked +full into hers, and uttered as plainly as words +the question that the sister dreaded, Jim Cal’s +wife turned and fled.</p> +<p>“She might as well ’a’ said ‘Huldy,’” whimpered +the vixen, plucking at her lip and hurrying back, +head down, to her own cabin.</p> +<p>The day dragged its slow length. The sun +in the doorway had crept to the noon-mark, and +away again. Flies buzzed. A cicada droned +without. The old hound padded in to lie down +under the bed.</p> +<p>After dinner Jephthah went away somewhere, +and the boys gathered in their room, whence +Judith could hear the clink and snap which +advised her that the guns were having a thorough +overhauling, cleaning, and oiling. She looked +helplessly at the door. What could she do? +Follow Creed as Huldah had done? At the +thought, all her bitterness surged back upon her. +What had she been able to accomplish when she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +stood face to face alone with him on the woods-path? +Nothing. She turned and addressed herself +once more savagely to her tasks. That +was what women were for—women and mules. +Men had the say-so in this world. She—she the +owner of this house, its real mistress—was to +cook three meals a day for the men folks, and see +nothing and say nothing.</p> +<p>Supper was the only meal at which the entire +family gathered that day. It was eaten in an +almost unbroken silence, the younger boys plainly +hesitating to speak to either Judith or their +father. Save for elliptical requests for food, the +only conversation was when Wade offered the +opinion that it looked like it might rain before +morning, and his father replied that he did not +think it would. Leaving the table without further +word, Jephthah returned to his own quarters; +the boys drifted away one by one giving no +destination.</p> +<p>The light that used to wink out in friendly +fashion from the smaller cabin across the slope +was darkened. Jim Cal had crawled out of bed +after a somewhat prolonged conversation with +Wade. A little later he had sullenly harnessed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +up a mule of Blatch’s and, with Iley and the +children, started for old Jesse Spiller’s, out at +Big Buck Gap, the sister maintaining to the last +that Huldah must certainly have gone out to +pap’s, and would be found waiting for them at the +old home.</p> +<p>There was nobody left on the place but Judith +and her uncle. The girl went automatically +about her Saturday evening duties, working +doggedly, trying to tire herself out so that she +might sleep when the time came that there was +nothing to do but go to bed. As she passed from +her storeroom, which she had got Wade to build +in the back end of the threshing-floor porch, to +the great open fireplace where a kettle hung with +white beans boiling that would be served with +dumplings for the Sunday dinner, as she took +down and sorted over towels and cloths that were +not needed, but which made a pretext for activity, +her mind ground steadily upon the happenings of +the past days. She could see Creed’s face before +her as he had looked the night of the play-party. +What coarse, crude animals the other +men were beside him! She could hear his +voice as it spoke to her in the dark yard at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +the Bonbright place, and her breath caught in +her throat.</p> +<p>She must be up and away; she must go to him +and warn him, protect him against these her +fierce kindred.</p> +<p>Then suddenly came the vision of Creed’s +laughing mouth as he bent to claim the forfeited +kiss when Huldah Spiller had openly pushed +herself across the line “and mighty nigh into his +arms.” Huldah had run hot-foot to warn him. +Arley Kittridge brought word of having seen her +dodge into the Card orchard on her way to the +house on the evening before, and nobody had +had sight of her since.</p> +<p>Judith’s was a nature swayed by impulse, more +capable than she herself was aware of noble +action, but capable also of sudden, irrational +cruelty. Just now her soul was at war with itself, +embittered by rage, by what she had done, by +what she had left undone, by her helplessness, by +what she desired to do. Finally, despairing of +any weariness bringing sleep—she had tried that +the night before and failed—she put by her work +and went up to her room, undressed and lay down +in the dark. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span></p> +<p>For a long time she interrogated the blackness +about her with wide open eyes. The house was +strangely still. She could hear the movement +and squawk of a chicken in one of the trees in +the side yard when some fellow lodger disturbed +it, or a sudden breeze shook the limb upon which +it roosted. She wondered if the boys had come +back yet and slipped in quietly. Had she slept +at all? About eleven o’clock there arose an +unquiet, gusty, yet persistent wind, that moved +the cedar tree against the edge of the porch roof +and set it complaining. For a time it moaned +and protested like a man under the knife. Then +its deep baritone voice began to cry out as though +it were calling upon her. The tree had long +ceased to mean anything other than Creed to +Judith, and now its outcry aroused her to an +absolute terror. Again and again as the wind +the tree, so those tones shook her heart with their +pain and love and anguish of entreaty.</p> +<p>Finally she arose in a kind of torture, slipped +on her clothes and went through all the rooms. +They were silent and empty. Not a bed had been +disturbed. She breathed loud and short in irrepressible +excitement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p> +<p>“They’re all over at the still,” she whispered, +clutching at the breast of her dress, and +shivering. But the old man never went near the +still, she knew that. For a while she struggled +with herself, and then she said, “I’ll just go and +listen outside of Uncle Jep’s door. That won’t +do any harm. Ef so be he’s thar, then the boys +is shore at the still. Ef he ain’t——”</p> +<p>She left her mentally formed sentence unfinished +and, on feet that fear winged, stole through +the side yard, across the long, lush, uncut grass to +her uncle’s door.</p> +<p>The old man must have been a light sleeper, or +perhaps he was awake before she approached, for +he called out while she yet stood irresolute, her +hand stretched toward the big wooden latch.</p> +<p>“Who’s thar?”</p> +<p>Startled, abashed, she replied in a choked, +hesitating tone.</p> +<p>“It’s only me—Jude. I reckon I’m a fool, +Uncle Jep. I know in reason there ain’t nothin’ +the matter. But I jest couldn’t sleep, and I got +up and looked through the house, and the boys +is all gone, and I got sorter scared.”</p> +<p>He was with her almost instantly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p> +<p>“I reckon they’re all over ’crost the gulch,” he +said in his usual unexcited fashion, though she +noted that he did not go back into his room, but +joined her where she lingered in the dark outside.</p> +<p>“Of course they air,” she reassured herself +and him. “Whar else could they be?”</p> +<p>“Now I’m up, I reckon I mought go over yon +myself,” the old man said finally. “My foot +hurts me this evening; I believe I’ll ride Pete. +I took notice the boys had all the critters up for +an early start in the mornin’.”</p> +<p>Both knew that this was a device for investigating +the stables, and together they hurried to the +huddle of low log buildings which served to house +forage and animals on the Turrentine place. Not +a hoof of anything to ride had been left. The boys +would not have taken mules or horse to go to the +still—so much was certain. In the light of the +lantern which Jephthah lit the two stood and +looked at each other with a sort of consternation. +Then the old man fetched a long breath.</p> +<p>“Go back to the house, Jude,” he said not +unkindly, putting the lantern into her hand; and +without another word he set off down the road +running hard.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIV_THE_RAID' id='XIV_THE_RAID'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +<h2>Chapter XIV</h2> +<h3>The Raid</h3> +</div> + +<p>Earlier that same Saturday evening, while +Judith Barrier was fighting out her battle, +and trying to tire down the restless spirit that +wrung and punished her, Nancy Card, mindful of +earlier experiences in feud times, was getting her +cabin in a state of defence.</p> +<p>“You know in reason them thar Turrentines +ain’t a-goin’ to hold off long,” she told Creed. +“They’re pizen fighters, and they allus aim to +hit fust. No, you don’t stay out in that thar +office,” as Creed made this proffer, stating that it +would leave her and her family safer. “I say +stay in the office! Why, them Turrentines would +ask no better than one feller for the lot of ’em +to jump on—they could make their brags about +it the longest day they live of how they done him +up.”</p> +<p>So it came to pass that Creed was sitting in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +big kitchen of the Nancy Card cabin while Judith +wrought at her fruitless labours in her own home. +Despite the time of year, Nancy insisted on +shutting the doors and closing the battened shutters +at the windows.</p> +<p>“A body gets a lot of good air by the chimney +drawin’ up when ye have a bit of fire smokin’,” +she said. “I’d ruther be smothered as to be +shot, anyhow.”</p> +<p>Little Buck and Beezy, infected by the excitement +of their elders, refused peremptorily to go to +bed. “Let me take the baby,” said Creed holding +out his arms. “She’s always good with me. She +can go to sleep in my lap.”</p> +<p>“Beezy won’t go to sleep in <i>nobody’s</i> lap,” that +young lady announced with great finality. “Beezy +never go to sleep <i>no</i> time—<i>nowhere</i>.”</p> +<p>“All right,” agreed the young fellow easily, +cutting short a futile argument upon the +grandmother’s part. “You needn’t go to sleep +if you can stay awake, honey. You sit right here +in Creed’s lap and stay awake till morning and +keep him good company, won’t you?”</p> +<p>The red head nodded till its flying frazzles +quivered like tongues of flame. Then it snuggled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +down on the broad breast, that moved rhythmically +under it, and very soon the long lashes +drooped to the flushed cheeks and Beezy was +asleep.</p> +<p>Aunt Nancy had picked up Little Buck, but +that young man had the limitations of his virtues. +Being silent by nature he had not so much to keep +him awake as the loquacious Beezy, and by the +time his father on the other side of the hearth had +dropped asleep and nearly fallen into the fire a +couple of times, been sternly admonished by the +grandmother, and gone to fling himself face down +upon a bed in the corner, Little Buck was sounder +asleep than his sister.</p> +<p>The old woman got up and carried her grandson +to the bed, laid him down upon it and, taking +basin and towel, proceeded to wipe the dusty +small feet before she took off his minimum of +clothing and pushed him in between the sheets.</p> +<p>“Minds me of a foot-washin’ at Little Shiloh,” +she ruminated. “Here’s me jest like the preacher +and here’s Little Buck gettin’ all the sins of the +day washed off at once.”</p> +<p>She completed her task, and was taking Beezy +from Creed’s arms to lay her beside her brother +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +on the bed, when a tap—tap—tapping, apparently +upon the window shutter, brought them both to +their feet, staring at each other with pale faces.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” breathed Nancy. “Hush—hit’ll +come again. Don’t you answer for your +life, Creed. Ef anybody speaks, let it be me.”</p> +<p>Again the measured rap—rap—rap!</p> +<p>“You let my Nick in,” murmured Beezy +sleepily, and Creed laughed out in sudden relief. +It was the wooden-legged rooster, coming across +the little side porch and making his plea for +admission as he stepped.</p> +<p>Something in the incident brought the situation +of affairs home to Creed Bonbright as it had not +been before.</p> +<p>“Aunt Nancy,” he said resolutely, “I’m going +to leave right now and walk down to the settlement. +I’ve got no business to be here putting +you and the children in danger. It’s a case of +fool pride. They told me down at Hepzibah +that I’d be run out of the Turkey Tracks inside of +three months if I tried to set up a justice’s office +here. I felt sort of ashamed to go back and face +them and own up that they were right—that +I had been run out. I ought to have been too +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +much of a man to feel that way. It makes no +difference what they say—the only thing that +counts is that I have failed.”</p> +<p>“You let me catch you openin’ that do’ or +steppin’ yo’ foot on the road to-night!” snorted +Nancy belligerently. “Why, you fool boy, don’t +you know all the roads has been guarded by the +Turrentines ever since they fell out with ye? +They ’lowed ye would run of course, and they +aimed to layway ye as ye went. I could have +told ’em ye wasn’t the runnin’ kind; but thar, +what do they know about——”</p> +<p>She broke off suddenly, her mouth open, +and stood staring with fear-dilated eyes at +Creed.</p> +<p>“Hello!” came the hail from outside.</p> +<p>Nancy let the baby slip from her arms to the +floor, and the little thing stood whimpering and +rubbing her eyes, clinging to her grandmother’s +skirts.</p> +<p>“Hush—hush!” cautioned the old woman, +barely above her breath.</p> +<p>“Hello! Hello in thar! You better answer—we +see yo’ light. Hello in thar!”</p> +<p>“Whose—voice—is that?” breathed old Nancy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></p> +<p>“It sounded like Blatch Turrentine’s,” Creed +whispered back as softly.</p> +<p>“Hit do,” she agreed with conviction.</p> +<p>Suddenly a shot rang out, and Doss Provine +sat up on the edge of the bed with a gurgle of +terror. Little Buck wakened at the same instant, +and ran to his grandmother.</p> +<p>“I ain’t scared, Granny,” he asseverated, “I +kin fight fer ye.”</p> +<p>“Hush—hush!” cautioned Nancy, bending to +gather in the sun-burned tow head at her knee.</p> +<p>Another shot followed, and after it a voice +crying,</p> +<p>“You’ve got Creed Bonbright in thar. You +let him come out and talk to us, or we’ll batter +yo’ do’ in.”</p> +<p>“You Andy—you Jeff!” shouted the old woman +in sudden rage. “Ef you want Creed Bonbright +you know whar to find him. You go away and +let my do’ alone.”</p> +<p>“You quit callin’ out names, Nancy Cyard,” +responded the first, menacing voice out of the +darkness. “We know Bonbright’s in thar, and +we aim to have him out—or burn yo’ house—accordin’ +to yo’ ruthers.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p> +<p>Creed had parted his lips to answer them, when +old Nancy sprang at him and set her hand over +his open mouth.</p> +<p>“You hush—and keep hushed!” she whispered +urgently.</p> +<p>“I just wanted to call to the boys and tell them +I’m here,” Creed whispered to her. “Aunt +Nancy, I’m bound to go out there and talk to +them fellows. I cain’t stay in here and let you and +the children suffer for it.”</p> +<p>“Aw, big-mouthed, big-talkin’ brood—what +do I keer for them?” demanded Nancy, tossing her +head with a characteristic motion to get the grey +curls away from her fearless blue eyes; whereupon +the tucking comb slipped down and had to +be replaced, “You ain’t a-goin’ out thar,” she +whispered vehemently from under her raised arm, +as she redded back the straying locks with it. +Nancy had the reckless, dare-devil courage those +blue eyes bespoke. Presuming a bit, perhaps, on +her age and sex, she yet ran risks that many men +would have shunned without deeming themselves +cowards. “You ain’t a-goin’ out thar, I +tell ye,” she reiterated. “I wouldn’t let ye ef +they burnt the house down over our heads. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +Pony’ll be along pretty shortly from Hepzibah, +and when he sees ’em I reckon he’s got sense +enough to git behind a bush and fire at ’em—that’ll +scatter ’em.”</p> +<p>As if inspired to destroy this one slender hope, +the voice outside spoke again, tauntingly.</p> +<p>“Nancy Cyard, we’ve got yo’ son Pony here—picked +him up on the road—an’ ef yo’r a mind to +trade Creed Bonbright for him, we’ll trade even. +Better dicker with us. Somepin’ bad might +happen this young ’un.”</p> +<p>At the words, Creed wheeled and made for the +door, Nancy gripping him frantically but mutely.</p> +<p>“Creed—boy—honey!”—she breathed at last, +“they’s mo’ than one kind o’ courage. This is jest +fool courage—to go an’ git yo’se’f killed up. Them +Turrentines won’t hurt Pone. But you—oh, my +Lord!”</p> +<p>“I reckon ye better let him go, maw,” Doss +Provine chattered from the bed’s edge where he +still crouched. “Hit’s best that it should be one, +ruther than all of us.”</p> +<p>Old Nancy flung him a glance of wordless contempt. +Beezy ran and tangled herself in the +tall young fellow’s legs, halting him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>“Creed,” the old woman urged, still below her +breath, holding to his arm. “Creed, honey, as +soon as you open that do’ and stand in the light, +yo’r no better than a dead man. Listen!”</p> +<p>All caution had been thrown aside by the +besiegers. Hoarse voices questioned and answered +outside, sounds of stumbling footsteps +surrounded the house.</p> +<p>“Boys,” called Creed in that clear, ringing voice +of his that held neither fear nor great excitement, +“I’m coming out to talk to you. Aunt Nancy, +take the children away. You’ve got it to do.”</p> +<p>“Well, come on,” replied the voice without. +“Talk—that’s all we want. You’ll be as safe +outside as in—and a damn’ sight safer.”</p> +<p>Nancy gathered up her youngsters, flung them +in a heap into their father’s lap, and, overturning +and putting out the candle as she went, sprang to +the hearth to quench a small flame which had +risen among the embers there.</p> +<p>“Ye might have some sense!” she panted +angrily. “The idea of walkin’ yo’se’f into a +lighted doorway for them fellers to shoot at! For +God’s sake don’t open that do’ till I get the lights +out!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></p> +<p>But Creed was not listening. He had pulled the +big pine bar that held the battened door in place, +and now flung it wide, stepping to the threshold +and beginning again,</p> +<p>“Boys——”</p> +<p>He uttered no further word. A rifle spoke, a +bullet sang, passed through the cabin and buried +itself in the old-fashioned chimneypiece. Creed +fell where he stood. As he went down across the +threshold, Nancy whirling around to the door, bent +over his prostrate form.</p> +<p>Outside, the ruddy, shaken shine from a couple +of lightwood torches which stood alone, where +they had been thrust deep into the garden mould +made strange gouts and blotches of colour on +Nancy’s flower beds. A group of men halted, +drawn together, muttering, just beyond the +palings. Each had a handkerchief tied across the +lower part of his face, a simple but effectual +disguise.</p> +<p>Her groping hand came away from the prostrate +man, red with blood; she dashed it across her brow +to clear her eyes of blowing hair. At the moment +a figure burst through the grove of saplings by the +roadside, a tall old man whose long black beard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +blew across his mighty chest that laboured as he +ran. His hat was off in his hand, his face raised; +he had no weapon. With a gasp of relief Nancy +recognised him, yet rage mounted in her, too.</p> +<p>“Yes—come a-runnin’,” she muttered fiercely. +“Come look at what you and yo’rn have done!”</p> +<p>As he leaped into the clearing the old man’s +great black eyes, full of sombre fire, swept the +scene. They took in the prone figure across the +threshold, the blood upon the doorstone, and +on Nancy’s brow and hair.</p> +<p>“Air ye hurt? Nancy, air ye hurt?” he cried, +in such a tone as none there had ever heard from +him.</p> +<p>“Am I hurt?—No!” choked the old woman, +trying to get a hold on Creed’s broad shoulders +and drag him back into the room. “I ain’t hurt, +but it’s no credit to them wolves that you call +sons of yo’rn. They’ve got Pone out thar, ef +they hain’t shot him yit. And they’ve killed the +best man that ever come on this here mountain. +Oh, Creed—my pore boy! You Doss Provine! +Come here an’ he’p me lift him.” She reared herself +on her knees and glared at the group by the +gate. “He had no better sense than to take ye for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +men—to trust the word ye give, that he was safe +when he opened the do’. Don’t you come a step +nearer, Jep Turrentine,” she railed out at him +suddenly, as the old man drew toward the gate. +“I’ve had a plenty o’ you an’ yo’ sons this night. +They’re jest about good enough to shoot me +while I’m a-tryin’ to git this po’ dead boy drug +in the house, an’ then burn the roof down over me +an’ my baby chil’en. You Doss Provine, walk +yo’se’f here an’ he’p me.”</p> +<p>Doss, who found the presence of Jephthah Turrentine +reassuring, whatever his mother-in-law +might say, slouched forward, and between them +they lifted the limp figure.</p> +<p>“God knows I don’t blame ye, Nancy,” muttered +the old man in his beard, as the heavy +door was dragged shut, and the bar dropped into +place. Then he advanced upon the men at the +palings.</p> +<p>At Jephthah’s first appearance the tallest of +these had dropped swiftly back into the shadows +on the other side of the road and was gone. Unsupported, +the four or five who were left shuffled +uneasily, beneath the old man’s fierce eye.</p> +<p>“Where’s Pone Cyard?” he demanded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></p> +<p>“We hain’t tetched him, pap. We never seed +him. We said that to draw ’em.”</p> +<p>“Huh!” ejaculated Jephthah, as though further +comment were beyond him. “Git yo’ ridin’ critters,” +he gave the short, sharp order. “Fetch +Pete to me.” And he whirled his back, and +stalked out into the main road.</p> +<p>A hundred yards or so up, there was a sound of +hoofs and tearing bushes, as the boys came through +the greenery with their mules. Pete was led up +and the bridle-rein presented in meek silence. +By the dim, presaging light of the little waning +moon, delaying somewhere down below the +shoulder of Big Turkey Track, old Jephthah took +it, set foot in stirrup, and made ready to swing +to saddle. Then he slowly withdrew the foot and +turned back.</p> +<p>“Take them cussed rags off o’ yo’ faces!” he +burst out in a fury of contempt. “Now. Who +laid out this night’s work? Well, speak up—how +come it?”</p> +<p>Dead silence answered. Of the three who +faced him not one—lacking the leader who had +skulked away at Jephthah’s approach—could +have explained just why he was there. And none +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +of them would betray the man who had led them +there and left them to answer as best they might +for their actions to the head of the tribe.</p> +<p>“Uh-huh, I thort so,” nodded the old man +bitterly, as they yet stood mute. “Ain’t got a +word to say for yo’selves. No, and they ain’t a +word to be said. Yo’ sons in my house. I was +thar—I was standin’ with ye about this business. +Why couldn’t this be named to me? What call +had ye to sneak around me—to make a fool o’ me, +an’ shame me?”</p> +<p>He waited. Receiving no response, he concluded +as he got to the mule’s back,</p> +<p>“You do me thisaway once mo’—jest once mo’—and +hit will be a plenty.”</p> +<p>With that he gave Pete the rein, and the mule’s +receding heels flung dust in the dismayed countenances +he left behind him.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XV_COUNCIL_OF_WAR' id='XV_COUNCIL_OF_WAR'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +<h2>Chapter XV</h2> +<h3>Council of War</h3> +</div> + +<p>The Turrentine clan was gathering for consultation, +Judith knew that. It was Sunday, and +much of this unwonted activity passed as the +ordinary Sabbath day coming and going. But +there was a steady tendency of tall, soft-stepping, +slow-spoken, keen-eyed males toward old Jephthah’s +quarters, and Judith had got dinner for +the two long-limbed, black-avised Turrentine +brothers, Hawk and Chantry, from over in Rainy +Gap; and old Turrentine Broyles, a man of +Jephthah’s age, had ridden in from Broyles’s Mill +that morning.</p> +<p>With the natural freedom of movement that +Sunday offers, information from the Card neighbourhood +came in easily. Inevitably Judith +learned all the details of last night’s raid; and +everybody on the place knew that Creed Bonbright +was alive, and that he was not even +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +seriously wounded. He had been observed through +the open door of Nancy’s cabin moving about the +rooms inside. Arley Kittridge declared that he +had seen Bonbright, in the grey of early morning, +his head bound up and his left arm in a sling, +cross from Nancy’s house to his office and back +again, alone.</p> +<p>Sunday brought the Jim Cals home, too. Iley, +humiliated and savage, bearing in her breast +galling secret recollections of Pap Spiller’s animadversions +on her management of Huldah, raged +all day with the toothache, and a pariah dog +might have pitied the lot of the fat man.</p> +<p>All day, as Judith cooked, and washed her +dishes, and entertained her visitors, the events +of last night’s raid were present with her. When +at the table one of the boys stretched a hand to +receive the food she had prepared, she looked at +it with an inward shuddering, wondering, was this +the hand that fired the shot?</p> +<p>All day as she talked to her women visitors of +patchwork patterns, or the making of lye soap, as +she admired their babies and sympathised with +their ailments, her mind was busy with the +inquiry what part she should take in the final +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +inevitable crisis. She remembered with a remorse +that was almost shame how, at their last +interview, she had plucked back from Creed her +rescuing hand in jealous anger. That big mother +kindness that there was in her spoke for him, +pleaded loud for his life, when her hot passionate +heart would have had revenge for his +slight.</p> +<p>Yes, she had to save Creed Bonbright if she +could, and to be of any use to him she must +know what was planned against him. It was +dark by the time the women-folk had gone their +ways and the men remaining had assembled +definitely in old Jephthah’s separate cabin. +No gleam of light shone from its one window. +Judith watched for some time, then taking a bucket +as a pretext walked down the path to the cow-lot, +which led her close in to the cabin. She could +hear as she approached the murmur of masculine +voices. Secure from observation in the darkness, +she crept to the window and listened, her head +leaned against the wooden shutter. Old Jephthah +was speaking, and she realised from his +words that she had chanced upon the close of +their council. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p> +<p>The big voice came out to her in carefully lowered +tones.</p> +<p>“Well, Broyles, yo’ the oldest, an that’s yo’ +opinion. Hawk an’ Chantry says the same. Now +as far as I’m concerned—” the commanding +accents faltered a little—“I’m obliged to agree +with you. The matter has got where we cain’t +do no other than run him out. I admit it. I’ll +say yes to that.”</p> +<p>Judith trembled, for she knew they spoke of +Creed.</p> +<p>“Well, Jep, you better not put too many things +in the way,” came accents she recognised as +Turrentine Broyles’s, “or looks like these-here +boys is liable to find theirselves behind bars +befo’ snow flies.”</p> +<p>“Huh-uh,” agreed the old man’s voice. “I +know whar I’m at. I ain’t lived this long and got +through without disgrace or jailin’ to take up with +it at my age; but they don’t raid no more cabins. +I freed my mind on that last night; I made myself +cl’ar; an’ that’s the one pledge I ax for. Toll +him away from the place and layway him, if +you must, to run him out. But they’s to be +no killin’, an’ no mo’ shootin’ up houses whar +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +they is women and chil’en. This ain’t no +feud.”</p> +<p>“All right—we’ve got yo’ word for it, have +we?” inquired Buck Shalliday eagerly. “You’ll +stand by us?”</p> +<p>Suddenly a brand on the hearth flamed up, +and Judith peering through a crack of the board +shutter had sight of her uncle standing, his +height exaggerated by the flickering illumination, +tall and black on the hearthstone. About him +the faint light fell on a circle of eager, drawn faces, +all set toward him. As she looked he raised his +hand above his head and shook the clenched fist.</p> +<p>“I’ve got obliged to,” he groaned. “God +knows I had nothing against Creed Bonbright. +And I can’t say as I’ve got anything against +him yit. But I’ve got a-plenty against rottin’ in +jail. I’d ruther die.”</p> +<p>“Will ye come with us, pap?” Jim Cal instantly +put the question, and as he spoke the light went +suddenly out.</p> +<p>“No,” returned old Jephthah doggedly. “I +won’t make nor meddle. I’ve give you my best +advice; I sont for Hawk an’ Chantry, here, an’ +for Turn Broyles, to do the same. We’ve talked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +it over fa’r an’ squar’, aimin’ to have ye do this +thing right—” He broke off, and then amended +sombrely, “—As near right as sech a thing can +be did. But you-all boys run into this here +agin’ my ruthers, an’ you’ll jest have to git out +yo’selves. All I say is, no killin’, and no raidin’ +of folks’ homes.”</p> +<p>“No <i>mo’</i> killin’, ye mean,—don’t ye?” asked +Jim Cal. The fat man, goaded beyond reason, +was ready to turn and fight at last.</p> +<p>“No, I don’t,” answered his father. “When I +mean a thing I can find the words to say it +without any advice. As for Blatch bein’ killed—you +boys think yo’ mighty smart, but you’d +show yo’ sense to tote fair with me and tell +me all that’s goin’ on. I wasn’t born yesterday. +I’ve seen interruptions and killin’s befo’ I seen +any of you. An’ I’ll say right here in front o’ yo’ +kinfolks that’s come to he’p you out with their +counsels—an’ could do a sight better ef you’d +tell ’em the truth—that I never did think it was +likely that Creed Bonbright made away with a +body inside of fifteen minutes. That tale’s +too big for me—but I’m askin’ no questions. +Settle it your own way—but for God’s sake settle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +it. Him knowin’ what he does an’ havin’ been +did the way you boys have done him, he’s got +to go. Run him out—an’ run him out quick. +Don’t you dare tell me how, nor when, nor what!”</p> +<p>Judith started back as the sounds within told +her that the men were groping their way to the +door. As she stood concealed by darkness, +they issued, made their quiet adieux, and went over +to the fence where she could hear the stamping +of the tethered animals. Cut off from the house, +she retreated swiftly down the path toward the +stable and would have entered, but some instinct +warned her back. As she paused uncertain, +hearing footsteps approaching from behind, indefinably +sure that there was danger in front, +there sounded a cautious low whistle. Those +who came from the cabin answered it. She +drew back beneath one of the peach-trees by the +milking-pen—the very one from which Creed had +broken the blossoming switch, with which she +reproached him. Flat against its trunk she +crouched, as six men went past her in the gloom.</p> +<p>“Who’s here?” demanded a voice like Blatch +Turrentine’s, and at the sound she began suddenly +to shudder from head to foot. Then she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +pulled herself together. This was no ghost talking. +It was the man himself.</p> +<p>“Me,” answered Jim Cal’s unmistakable tones, +“an’ Wade, an’ Jeff, an’ Andy. Buck and Taylor’s +both with us—and that’s all.”</p> +<p>The man within opened the grain-room door, +and the six newcomers entered.</p> +<p>“Whar’s old man Broyles, an’ Hawk an’ +Chantry?” questioned Blatch.</p> +<p>“They rid off home,” said Shalliday.</p> +<p>“Well, what does Unc’ Jep say?” demanded +Blatch, plainly not without some anxiety.</p> +<p>Before anyone could answer,</p> +<p>“Hark ye!” came Jim Cal’s tones tremulously. +“Didn’t I hear somebody outside? Thar—what +was that?”</p> +<p>In her excitement and interest Judith had +moved nearer with some noise.</p> +<p>“I vow, podner,” came Blatch’s rich, rasping +tones. “Ef I didn’t know it was you I’d be +liable to think they was a shiverin’ squinch-owl +in here with us. Buck, step out and scout, will +ye? Git back as soon as ye can, ’caze we’re goin’ +to have a drink.”</p> +<p>She heard the rattle of a tin cup against the jug. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +As she moved carefully down the way toward +the spring, Blatch’s voice followed her, saying +unctuously:</p> +<p>“Had to go through hell to get this stuff—spies +a-follerin’ ye about, an’ U.S. marshals +a-threatenin’ ye with jail—might as well +enjoy it.”</p> +<p>She dipped her bucket in the spring branch, +and bore it dripping up the path a short way. If +Buck Shalliday met her, she had an errand and +an excuse for her presence which might deceive +him. When she came within sight of the stables +once more she set down her bucket and stood +listening long. Something moved outside the +logs. They had posted their sentry then. She +groaned as she realised that what she had heard +was inadequate and insufficient. The knowledge +was there to be had for a little daring, a little +cunning.</p> +<p>Just as she had become almost desperate enough +to walk up to the place and make pretence of +being one with them, a stamp from the figure +outside the corner told her that it was a tethered +mule instead of a man. Emboldened she stole +nearer, and found a spot where she could crouch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +by the wall so hidden among some disused implements +that she might even have dared to let +them emerge from their hiding-place and pass +her. Again Blatch was speaking.</p> +<p>Blatchley Turrentine had come to his uncle’s +house, a youth of seventeen—a man, as mountain +society reckons things. At that time Andy and +Jeff were seven-year-olds, Wade a big boy of +thirteen; and even Jim Cal, of the same years but +less adventurous in nature, had been so thoroughly +dominated by the newcomer that the leadership +then established had never been relinquished. +And now the artfully introduced whiskey had +done its work; these boys were quite other than +those who had gone in sober and grave less than +half an hour before, their father’s admonitions and +the counsels of old man Broyles and their Turrentine +kindred lying strongly upon them.</p> +<p>Judith heard no demur as Blatch detailed +their plans.</p> +<p>“They’s no use to go to Unc’ Jep with what +I’ve been a-tellin’ ye,” the voice of natural +authority proclaimed. “I tell ye Polk Sayles +says he’s seen Bonbright meet Dan Haley about +half way down the Side—thar whar Big Rock +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +Creek crosses the corner of the Sayles place—mo’ +than once sense he’s been on the mountain. Now +with what that man knows, and with the grudges +he’s got, you let him live to meet Dan Haley once +mo’ and even Unc’ Jep is liable to the penitentiary—but +tell it to Unc’ Jep an’ he won’t believe +ye. He’s got a sort of likin’ for the feller.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” Jim Cal seconded in a +voice which had become pot-valiant. “Pap is a +old man, and we-all that air younger have obliged +to take care on him.”</p> +<p>At any other time these pious sentiments would +have brought a volley of laughter from Blatchley, +but this evening Judith judged from the sounds +that he clapped the fat man on the shoulder as +he said heartily:</p> +<p>“Mighty right you air, James Calhoun. Unc’ +Jep is one of the finest men that ever ate bread, +but his day is pretty well over. Ef we went by +him and old man Broyles and Hawk and Chantry, +we’d find ourselves in trouble mighty shortly. +They’s but one way to toll Bonbright out to whar +we want him. We’ve got to send word that +Unc’ Jep will meet him at moonrise and talk to +him. The fool is plumb crazy about talkin’ to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +folks, and looks like he cain’t get it through his +head that Unc’ Jep ain’t his best friend. It’ll +fetch him whar nothin’ else will.”</p> +<p>“And we’ve got to hunt up something else +for you to ride, Blatch, ef Jim Cal an’ me takes the +mules,” Jeff remarked. “Jude mighty nigh tore +up the ground when she found we’d had Selim +last night. She give it out to each and every +that nobody is to lay a hand on him day or night +from this on.”</p> +<p>The girl outside heard Blatch’s hateful laugh, +and knew with a great throb of rage who had +ridden her horse the night before.</p> +<p>There was a stir among the men seated, Judith +conjectured, on the grain-room floor, and a little +clinking, as the jug of corn whiskey was once more +brought into play by Blatch. Presently,</p> +<p>“All right,” said Buck Shalliday. “I’ll bring +Lige’s mule. And I’ll have a message got to +Bonbright that Jephthah Turrentine wants to +see and talk with him out at Todd’s corner at +moonrise a-Monday night. Will that suit ye?”</p> +<p>“Hit’ll answer,” returned Blatch. “Let’s +see,” he calculated; “that’ll be about two +o’clock. Ef he comes up to the scratch we’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +git Mr. Man as he goes by the big rock in the +holler acrosst from the spring. That rock and +the bushes by it gives plenty of cover. They’s +bound to be light enough to see him by, with the +moon jest coming up, and I want to hear from +every man present that he’ll shoot at the word. +I don’t want any feller in the crowd that’ll +say he didn’t pull trigger on Bonbright. Ef +we all aim and shoot, nary a one of us can say +who killed him—and killed he’s got to be.”</p> +<p>The listening girl hoped for some demur, but +Blatch Turrentine and his potent counsellor, the +jug, dominated the assembly, and there came a +striking of hands on this, a hoarse murmuring +growl of agreement. She doubled low to avoid +being seen against the sky and hurried back +toward the cabin as she heard the men preparing +to leave the grain-room.</p> +<p>Brave as any one of them there, enterprising and +full of the spirit of leadership, Judith addressed +herself promptly to saving Creed Bonbright. +She went straight to her uncle’s cabin. No +mountaineer ever raps on a door. Judith shook +the latch, at first gently, then, getting no response, +more and more imperatively, at length opening +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +and walking in, with a questioning, “Uncle +Jep?”</p> +<p>There was no answer, no sound or movement. +With hasty fingers she raked together the brands +of the fire; they flickered up and showed her an +untenanted room. The bed was untouched, the +old man’s hat and coat were gone. The pegs +above the door where Old Sister always rested +were empty.</p> +<p>Instantly there flashed upon Judith the intuition +that her uncle, heartsick and ill-affected +toward the quarrel, had silently withdrawn until +it should have been settled one way or another. +Well, she must work alone.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVI_A_MESSAGE' id='XVI_A_MESSAGE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +<h2>Chapter XVI</h2> +<h3>A Message</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Judith stole noiselessly into the house +and up to her room, she could hear the +boys preparing for bed in their own quarters, +with unwonted jesting and laughter, and even +some occasional stamping about which suggested +horse-play; and her lip curled angrily as she +recalled Blatch’s jug of corn whiskey.</p> +<p>She lay thinking, thinking; and at length there +evolved itself in her mind a plan for getting Creed +safely out of the mountains by way of an ancient +Cherokee trail that ran down the gulch through a +distant corner of the old Turrentine place. By +this route they would reach the railroad town of +Garyville, quite around the flank of Big Turkey +Track from Hepzibah. She could do that. She +knew every step of the way. The trail was a disused, +forgotten route of travel, long fenced across +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +in several places, and scoured out of existence at +certain points by mountain streams; but she +had known every foot of it in years past; she +could travel it the darkest night; and Selim was +her own horse; she need ask nobody.</p> +<p>When she got so far, came the pressing question +of how to send word to Creed. She must see and +warn him before the men put their plan into +practice. But she was well aware that she herself +was under fairly close espionage, and that her +first move in the direction of Nancy Card’s cabin +would bring the vague suspicions of her household +to a certainty. Where to find a messenger? +How to so word a message that Creed would +answer it? These were the questions that drove +sleep from her pillow till almost morning.</p> +<p>She rose and faced the dawn with haggard eyes. +Unless she could do something this was the last +day of Creed’s life. In a tremor of apprehension +she got through her morning duties, cooking and +serving a breakfast to the three boys, who made +no comment on their father’s absence, and whose +curious looks she was aware of upon her averted +face, her down-dropped eyelids. She felt alone +indeed, with her uncle gone, and the boys who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +had been as brothers to her almost since babyhood +suddenly become strangers, their interests +and hers hostile, destructive to each other.</p> +<p>Woman will go to woman in a pinch like this, +and in spite of her repugnance at the thought of +Huldah, Judith late in the afternoon made her +way over to the Jim Cal cabin and asked concerning +its mistress’ toothache.</p> +<p>“Hit’s better,” said Iley briefly. Her head +was tied up in a medley of cloths and smelled loud +of turpentine, camphor, and a lingering bouquet +of assafœtida. She was not a hopeful individual +to enlist in a chivalrous enterprise.</p> +<p>“Huldy git back yet?” Judith asked finally.</p> +<p>“No, an’ she needn’t never git back,” snapped +Iley. “Her and Creed Bonbright kin make out +best they may. I don’t know as I mind her +bein’ broke off with Wade. One Turrentine in +the fambly’s enough fer me.”</p> +<p>“Air her and Creed Bonbright goin’ to be +wedded?” inquired Judith scarcely above her +breath.</p> +<p>“<i>Air</i> they?” echoed Xantippe, settling her +hands on her hips and surveying Judith with an +angry stare, the dignity of which was sadly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +impaired by a yellow flannel cloth-end which +persisted in dabbling in her eye. “Well, I should +hope so! I don’t know what gals is comin’ to in +this day an’ time—follerin’ ’round after the young +men like you do. Ef I’d a’ done so when I was +a gal my mammy’d have took a hickory to me. +That’s what she would. Here’s Jim Cal be’n +rarin’ around here like a chicken with its head +off ’caze Huldy run away with Creed Bonbright, +and here <i>you</i> air askin’ me do I think Creed and +Huldy is apt to marry. What kind of women do +ye ’low the Spiller gals is, anyhow?”</p> +<p>Judith turned away from so unpromising an +ally. She was accused of running after Creed +Bonbright. When he got her message it would +be with Huldah Spiller beside him to help him +read it. The thought was bitter. It gave that +passionate heart of hers a deadly qualm; but +she put it down and rose above it. Huldah or no +Huldah, she could not let him die and make no +effort.</p> +<p>Leaving Jim Cal’s cabin she walked out into +the woods, and only as she turned at the edge of +the clearing and looked back to find Iley furtively +peering after her from the corner of the house did +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +she realise that the woman’s words had been +dictated because she had been taken into the +confidence of the men and set to keep an eye +on Judith.</p> +<p>At the conviction a feeling of terror began to +gain ground. She was like a creature enmeshed +in a net weak in its cordage, but many-stranded +and hampering; turn whichever way she would +some petty restriction met her. She moved aimlessly +forward, reasonably sure that she was not +followed or observed, since she was going away +from rather than toward the Card place. About +a mile from the cabin of old Hannah Updegrove, +a weaver of rag carpet, she suddenly came upon +two little creatures sitting at a tree-foot playing +about one of those druidical-looking structures +that the childhood of the man and the childhood +of the race alike produce. It was Little Buck +and Beezy come to spend the day with old Hannah +who, on their father’s side, was kin of theirs, and +making rock play-houses in the tree-roots to +put over the time. Judith ran to the children, +gathered them close, and hugged them to her +with whispered endearments in which some tears +mingled. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></p> +<p>Then for half an hour followed the schooling of +Little Buck for the message which he was to carry, +and which Beezy must be so diverted that she +would not even hear.</p> +<p>Judith plaited grass bracelets for the fat little +wrists, fashioned bonnets of oak leaves, pinning +them together with grass stems, and then sending +Beezy far afield to gather flowers for their trimming. +On long journeys the little feet trudged, +to where the beautiful, frail, white meadow lilies +rose in clumps from the lush grass of the lowlands. +She fetched cardinal flowers from the mud and +shallow water beyond them, or brought black-eyed +Susans from the sun of open spaces. And +during these expeditions Judith’s catechism of +the boy went on.</p> +<p>“How you goin’ to git home, Little Buck?”</p> +<p>“Pappy’s a-comin’ by to fetch us.”</p> +<p>“When?”</p> +<p>“A little befo’ sundown?”</p> +<p>“You goin’ straight home?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jude, we’ goin’ straight home to Granny, +why?”</p> +<p>“Never mind, honey. Is Creed there at yo’ +house?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></p> +<p>A silent nod.</p> +<p>“Is—honey, tell Jude the truth—is it true that +he ain’t bad hurt? Could he ride a nag?”</p> +<p>Little Buck looked all around him, drew close +to his big sweetheart, and pulled her down that +he might whisper in her ear.</p> +<p>“I know somethin’ that Granny and Creed +don’t know I know, but I mus’n’t tell it to anybody—only +thest you. Creed—no, he ain’t so +awful bad hurt—he walks everywheres most—he’s +a-goin’ to take the old nag and go over to +Todd’s corner to see yo’ Unc’ Jep, about moonrise +to-night. They said that—Granny an’ Creed. +An’ they fussed. Granny, she don’t want him to +go; but Creed, he thest will—he’s bull-headed, +Creed is.”</p> +<p>Judith caught her breath. They had got the +message to him then, and he was going. Well, +her appointment with him must be first.</p> +<p>“Little Buck, honey, ef you love me don’t +you forget one word I say to you now,” she +whispered chokingly, holding the child by both +hands.</p> +<p>He rounded eyes of solemn adoration and +acquiescence upon her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></p> +<p>“You say to Creed Bonbright that Judith +Barrier says he must come to her at the foot +of Foeman’s Bluff—on yon side—as soon after +dark as he can git there. Tell him to come +straight through by the short cut; hit’ll be safe; +nobody’ll ever study about him comin’ in +this direction. As soon after hit’s plumb dark +as he can git there—will ye say that? Will ye +shore tell Creed an’ never tell nobody but +Creed?”</p> +<p>“But he won’t go,” said Little Buck wisely. +“Granny’s scared to have him go to talk to yo’ +Unc’ Jep, but she’d be a heap scareder to have +him come to you, ’caze you’ one o’ the Turrentines +too—ain’t ye, Judith?”</p> +<p>Judith’s face whitened at the weakness of her +position.</p> +<p>“I would come, Judith, becaze I love you an’ +you love me—but Creed, he won’t,” said the +boy.</p> +<p>“You tell him Little Buck,” she whispered +huskily, terror and shame warring in her face, +“tell him that I do love him. Tell him I said for +God’s sake to come—if he loves me.”</p> +<p>The child’s eyes slowly filled. He dropped them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +and stood staring at the ground, saying nothing +because of the blur. Finally:</p> +<p>“I’ll tell him that—ef you say I must,” he +whispered. And loving, tender Judith, in her +desperate preoccupation, never noted what she +had done to her little sweetheart.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVII_THE_OLD_CHEROKEE_TRAIL' id='XVII_THE_OLD_CHEROKEE_TRAIL'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +<h2>Chapter XVII</h2> +<h3>The Old Cherokee Trail</h3> +</div> + +<p>“The supper’s all ready for you boys,” Judith +called in to Wade whose whistle sounded +from his own room. “Hit’s a settin’, kivered, on +the hearth; the coffee-pot’s on the coals. Would +you-all mind to wait on yo’selves, an’ would you +put the saddle on Selim for me? I’m goin’ over +to Lusks’. I’ll eat supper there; I may stay +all night; but I’ll be home in the mornin’ soon +to git you-all’s breakfast.”</p> +<p>“Why—why, pap ’lowed——”</p> +<p>“Well, Uncle Jep ain’t here. Ef you don’t +want to——”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right Judith. Of course it’s all +right. But you say you’re goin’ to ride to Lusks’?—to +ride?” hesitated Wade uneasily. Judith +flung up her head and stared straight at him +with angry eyes.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said finally, “when I leave this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +place for over night I’d ruther know whar my +hoss is at. I’ll take him along.”</p> +<p>“Oh,—all right,” her cousin hastened to agree; +“I never meant to make you mad, Jude. Of +course I’d jest as soon saddle up for you. I +don’t wonder you feel thataway. I never like +to have anybody use my ridin’ critter.”</p> +<p>Judith had made her point. She let it pass, +and went sombrely on with her preparation for +departure. Wade still hesitated uneasily. Finally +he said deprecatingly,</p> +<p>“Ef ye don’t mind waitin’ a minute I’ll eat my +supper, an’ ride over with ye—I was a-goin’ after +supper anyhow; I want to see Lacey Rountree +ef he’s not gone back home yit.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be glad to have ye,” answered Judith +quietly. “I don’t mind waitin’.” And Wade, +plainly relieved, hurried out to the stables.</p> +<p>They rode along quietly in the late summer afternoon; +the taciturn habit of the mountain people +made the silence between them seem nothing +strange. Arrived at the Lusks’, both girls came +running out to welcome their visitor. She saw +Wade’s sidelong glance take note of the fact that +Grandpap Lusk led away Selim to the log stable. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +Lacey Rountree was gone home to the Far Cove, +and Wade lingered in talk with Grandpap Lusk +a while at the horse-block, then got on his mule +and, with florid good-byes, rode back home, +evidently at rest as to Judith.</p> +<p>The evening meal was over. Judith helped +Cliantha and Pendrilla prepare a bit of supper for +herself, aided in the clearing away and dish-washing, +and after they had sat for a while with +Granny Lusk and the old man in the porch, +listening to the whippoorwills calling to each +other, and all the iterant insect voices of a July +night, went to their own room.</p> +<p>“Girls,” said Judith softly, drawing the two +colourless little creatures to the bed, and sitting +down with one on each side of her, “girls,” and +her voice deepened and shook with the strain +under which she laboured, “I want you to let +me slip out the back door here, put my saddle on +Selim, and go home, quiet, without tellin’ the old +folks. I was goin’ home by daylight in the mornin’ +anyhow, to get the boys’ breakfast,” as the girls +stared at her in wordless surprise. “I’ve got a +reason why I’d ruther go now—and I’d ruther the +old folks didn’t know. Will ye do this for me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></p> +<p>The sisters looked at each other across their +guest’s dark eager face, and fluttered visibly. +They would have been incapable of deceit to +serve any purpose of their own; they were too +timid to have initiated any actions not in strict +accordance with household laws; but the same +gentle timidity which made them subservient to +the rules of their world, made them also abject +worshippers at the shrine of Judith’s beauty and +force and fire.</p> +<p>“Shore, shore,” they both whispered in a +breath.</p> +<p>“I hate to have ye go Jude—” began Cliantha; +but Pendrilla interrupted her.</p> +<p>“An’ yit ef Jude would ruther go—and wants +to slip out unbeknownst, why we wouldn’t say +nothin’ about it, and jest tell granny and grandpap +in the mornin’ that she left soon to git the +boys’ breakfast.”</p> +<p>They watched her pass quietly out the back +door and toward the log stable, their big blue +eyes wide with childish wonder and interest. +Judith with her many suitors, moving in an +atmosphere of romance, was to them a figure like +none other, and she was now in the midst of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +tragic doings; the glamour that had always been +upon her image was heightened by the last week’s +occurrences. They turned back whispering and +shut the door.</p> +<p>Thus it was that Judith found herself on Selim, +moving, free from suspicion or espionage, toward +the point below Foeman’s Bluff where she had +sent word to Creed to meet her.</p> +<p>The big oaks shouldered themselves in black +umbels against the horizon; pointed conifers shot +up inky spires between them. The sky was only +greyish black, lit by many stars, and Judith +trembled to note that their dim illumination +might almost permit one to recognise an individual +at a few paces distance. Without +misadventure she came to the spot designated, +urged Selim in under the shadow of a tree, dismounted, +and stood beside him waiting. Would +Creed come? Would Huldah persuade him that +the message was only a decoy? Would he come +too late? Would some of the boys intercept him, +so that he should never come at all?</p> +<p>At the last thought she started and leaned +out recklessly to search the dark path with +desperate eyes. Perhaps she had better venture +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +forward and meet him. Perhaps after all it would +be possible for her to get closer to Nancy Card’s. +Then in the midst of her apprehensions came the +sound of shod hoofs.</p> +<p>She had chosen this point for two reasons: first +the old trail she meant to follow down the mountain +passed in close to the spot; and second it was +the last place they would expect Bonbright to approach; +his way to it would never be guarded. +But of course she ran the risk of Blatch himself +or some of his friends and followers appearing. +And now she held her breath in intense anxiety +as the trampling came nearer.</p> +<p>There appeared out of the dense shadow of +the bluff a man walking and leading a mule by +its bridle. She knew the mule, because she got +the silhouette of it against the sky, and directly +after she saw that the man who led it was tall, +with a bandaged head, which he carried in a +manner unmistakable, and one shoulder gleaming +white—she guessed that that was because his +coat was off where the bandages lay under his +white shirt and over the wound in his shoulder. +It was Creed. With a throb of unspeakable +thankfulness she realised that she had till now +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +dreaded that if he came at all Huldah would be +with him. She moved out from the dense +shadow.</p> +<p>“Whar—whar’s Huldy?” she questioned before +she would trust herself to believe. But Creed, +full of the wonder of her message, dropped the +mule’s bridle and came toward her his uninjured +arm outstretched. He put the inquiry by almost +impatiently.</p> +<p>“Huldah? She went on down to Hepzibah +soon Saturday morning,” he said. “O Judith, +did you mean it—that word you sent me by Little +Buck?”</p> +<p>He came swiftly up to her, snatching her hand +eagerly, pressing it hard against his breast, +leaning close in the twilight to study her face.</p> +<p>“You couldn’t mean it,” he hurried on passionately, +tremulously, “not now; you just pity +me. Little Buck cried when he told me what +you said, honey. He was jealous. But he +needn’t have been—need he Judith? You just +pity me.”</p> +<p>Creed’s manner and his words were instant +reassurance to Judith’s womanly pride. But +immediately on the relaxation of that pain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +rose clamouring her anxiety for his safety—his +life.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, Creed,” she murmured vehemently. +“I did mean it—I sure meant every word of it. +But we got to get right away from here. Do ye +reckon ye can stand it to ride as far as the foot +of the mountain? Ye got to go—and I’m here +to take ye.”</p> +<p>They drew out of the path and into the deep +blackness beneath the trees. There was but a +hundredth chance that anybody would be passing +here, or watching this point, yet that hundredth +chance must be guarded against.</p> +<p>Poor Creed, he detained her, he clung to her +hands hungrily, and invoked the sound of her +voice. So much hate had daunted him, the +strength and sweetness of her presence, the warm +tenderness of her tones, were like balm to his +lacerated spirit.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t go to-night—dear——” he faltered, +abashed that the first word he uttered to her +must be a denial. “You’re mighty sweet and +good to offer to take me—I don’t know what I +have ever done that you should risk this for me—but +I’m to have a chance to talk to your Uncle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +Jephthah at moonrise to-night, and I can’t turn +my back on that. He’s a fair-minded man and +I’ll make this thing right yet.”</p> +<p>Judith shuddered. “Don’t you never believe +it,” she urged in a panting whisper. “Uncle +Jep hadn’t a thing on earth to do with that word +goin’ to you. He’s left home. I can’t find him +nowhars, or I’d have went straight to him and +begged him to help me out when I found what +the boys was aimin’ to do. Hit was Blatch +planned it all. I tell ye Creed, Blatch Turrentine +is alive—you never killed him when you flung +him over the bluff—and while he lives you can’t +stay here. He’s bound to kill ye.”</p> +<p>“Have you seen Blatch, yourself, Judith?” +Creed asked quickly.</p> +<p>“Oh, laws, no. He’s a layin’ out in the woods +somewheres, aimin’ to make Uncle Jep believe +you killed him. But I heard him plain enough—I +heard him and the boys fix it all up—hid out +from Uncle Jep down in the grain-room. There’s +to be seven of ’em a-waitin’ down by the +big hollow, and when they git you betwixt +them an’ the sky at moonrise they’re all +promised to shoot at once, so that nary man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +dast to go back on the others when you’re +killed.”</p> +<p>Wounded, appalled, the young fellow drew +back from her and clung to the saddle of the old +mule, with a boyish desire to hide his face against +the arm which he threw over it.</p> +<p>“How they hate me!” he breathed at last. +“Oh, I’ve failed—I’ve failed. I meant so well +by them all—and I’ve got nothing but their hate. +But I won’t run. I never ran from anything yet. +I’ll stay here and take what comes.”</p> +<p>Perhaps in his extremity the despair of this +speech was but an unconscious reaching out for +Judith’s expressed affection, the warmth and consolation +of her love. If this were so, the movement +brought him what he craved. In terror she laid +hold upon him, holding to his unwounded arm, +pressing her cheek upon his shoulder, making her +protest in swift passionate sentences.</p> +<p>“What good will it do for you to get yourself +killed—tell me that? Every one of them men will +be murderers, when you’ve stayed and seen it +through. Lord, what differ is it whether sech +critters as them love you or hate you? ’Pears +to me I would ruther have their ill-will as their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +good-will. Don’t you have no regards for them +that is good friends to you? <i>I</i> care. <i>I</i> understand +what it was you was tryin’ to do. I thort +it was fine. Air you goin’ to break my heart by +stayin’ here to git yourself killed? Oh, don’t do +it, Creed. You let me take you out of the mountains, +or I’ll never know what it is to sleep in +peace.”</p> +<p>His arm slipped softly round her waist and +drew her close against his side, so close that the +two young creatures, standing silent in the midst +of the warm summer night, could almost hear the +beating of each other’s heart. In spite of their +desperate situation they were tremulously happy.</p> +<p>“I thank my God for you, Judith,” murmured +Creed, bending to lay his cheek timidly against +hers. “Never was a man in trouble had such a +sweet helper. It’s mighty near worth it all to +have found you. Maybe you never would have +cared for me at all if this hadn’t come about—if I +hadn’t needed you so bad.”</p> +<p>Judith’s lavish heart would have hastened to +break its alabaster jar of ointment at love’s feet +with the impetuous avowal that he had been +dear to her since first she looked on him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +But there was instant need of haste; the situation +was full of danger; that confession, with all +its sweetness, might well wait a more secure +time and place. She got to her horse glowing +with hope, feeling herself equal to the dubious +enterprise before them.</p> +<p>“Whatever you say honey,” Creed assured her. +“Do with me as you will. I’m your man now.”</p> +<p>They had wheeled their mounts toward the open.</p> +<p>“Hark! What’s that?” whispered Judith.</p> +<p>The quavering cry of a screech-owl came across +the gulch to them. The girl crouched in her +saddle, shivering slightly, and stroking Selim’s +nose so that he might make no stir nor sound.</p> +<p>“They use—that—for a signal,” she breathed +at last. “The boys is out guardin’ the trails. +And ’pears like they’re a-movin’. We got to go +quick.”</p> +<p>They set forth in silence; Judith riding ahead, +skirted at a considerable distance the buildings +on the old Turrentine place, then followed down +a rocky stream-bed, dry now and leading abruptly +into a ravine. Here the girl took her bearings +by the summits she could see black against the +star-lit sky, and, avoiding the open, made for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +old Indian trail which would lead them directly +down to Garyville. They could ride abreast sometimes, +and they began to talk together in these +broken intervals.</p> +<p>“And Little Buck cried when he told you,” +Judith said, in that tender, brooding voice of hers. +“That was my fault. I’m mighty sorry. I +wouldn’t ’a’ hurt the child’s feelings for anything; +but I never thought.”</p> +<p>“I fixed it up with him some,” said her lover, +quickly. “I told him you only said that because +I was hurt and you was sorry for me. I thought +I was telling the truth.”</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep feels mighty bad about this business,” +she began another time, hastening to offer +what consolation she could. “Nothin’ would +have made him willin’ to it, but the fear that when +you brought the raiders up he’d get took hisself. +He ain’t had nothin’ to do with stillin’ for more’n +six year, but of course hit’s on his land, and the +boys is his sons. He says he’s too old to go to +the penitentiary.”</p> +<p>Creed reached out in the gloom and got the +girl’s hand.</p> +<p>“Oh, Judith, darling!” he said eagerly. “Let +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +me tell you right now, and make you understand—I +never had any more notion of bringing raiders +into the mountains than you have yourself. I do +know that blockaded stills and what they mean +are the ruin of this country; but honey, you’ve +got to believe me when I say I never wanted to +get any information about them or break them +up.”</p> +<p>The girl harkened, with close attention to the +man—the lover—but with simple indifference +to the gist of what he was saying. It was plain +that she would have loved and followed him +had he been a revenue officer himself.</p> +<p>“I’ll tell Uncle Jep,” she said presently. +“He’ll be mighty proud. He does really set a +heap of store by you, and they all know it. But +I ain’t never goin’ to let you talk like that to him,” +she added, the note of proud possession sounding +in her voice. “Ef you’re goin’ to live in the +mountains you’ll have to learn not to have much +to say about moonshine whiskey and blockaded +stills—you never do know who you might be +hittin’.”</p> +<p>“You’ll take good care of me, won’t you +Judith?” he said fondly, pressing the hand he held. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +“And I reckon I need it—I surely do manage +to get into misunderstandings with people. But +that wasn’t the trouble with Blatch Turrentine—he +never thought any such thing as that I was a +spy. He was mad at me about something else—and +I don’t know yet what it was.”</p> +<p>Judith laughed softly, low in her throat, so +far had they come from the uncertainty, strain, +and distress of an hour before. When next the +trail narrowed and widened again, she came up on +his left, the side of the injured arm, but which +brought her nearer to him, leaned close and laying +her hand on his shoulder, whispered,</p> +<p>“I reckon I know. I reckon you’ll have to +blame me with Blatch’s meanness.”</p> +<p>“Why, of course that was it!” exclaimed Creed. +He looped the bridle on his saddle horn, reached +up and drew her hand across his shoulders and +around his neck. “That’s what comes of getting +the girl that everybody else wants,” he said with +fond pride. “But nobody else can have her now, +can they? Say it Judith—say it to me, dear.”</p> +<p>Judith made sweet and satisfying response, +and they rode in silence a moment. Then she +halted Selim thoughtfully. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span></p> +<p>“This path takes off to Double Springs, Creed,” +she said, mentioning the name of a little watering +place built up about some wells of chalybeate +and sulphur water. “We might—do ye think +mebbe we’d better go there?”</p> +<p>Creed, who felt his strength ebbing, calculated +the distance. They had seen, as they made the +last turn under the bluff, the lights flaring at the +Garyville station. Double Springs was more than +a mile farther. “I reckon Garyville will be the +best, dear,” he returned gently. Then, “I wish I +had cut a little better figure in this business—on +account of you,” he added wistfully. “You’re +everything that a man could ask. I don’t want +you to be ashamed of me.”</p> +<p>“Ashamed of you!” Judith’s deep tones carried +such love, such scorn of those who might not +appreciate the man of her choice, that he was fain +to be comforted.</p> +<p>“If we had known each other better from the +first I reckon you would have kept me out of these +fool mistakes I’ve made,” the young fellow said +humbly.</p> +<p>“You ain’t made no mistakes,” Judith declared +with reckless loyalty, “Hit’s the other folks—Blatch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +Turrentine and them that follers him—no +good person could git along with them. Are +you much tired Creed? Does yo’ shoulder pain +you?”</p> +<p>“No, dear,” he said softly, laying his cheek +against the hand which he had drawn around his +neck. “Nothing pains me any more. I’m +mighty happy.”</p> +<p>And together thus they rode forward in darkness, +toward Garyville and safety.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVIII_BITTER_PARTING' id='XVIII_BITTER_PARTING'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +<h2>Chapter XVIII</h2> +<h3>Bitter Parting</h3> +</div> + +<p>In the sickly yellow flare of the kerosene lamps +around the Garyville station Judith got her +first sight of Creed’s face: sunken, the blood drained +from it till it was colourless as paper, the eyes +wild, purple rimmed, haggard—it frightened her. +She was off of Selim in a moment, begging him +to get down and sit on the edge of the platform +with her, here on the dark side where nobody +would notice them, and they could decide what +was to be done next.</p> +<p>He dismounted slowly, stumblingly, gained the +edge of the platform, and there sat with drooping +head. Judith tied the two animals and ran to sit +beside him.</p> +<p>“Ye ain’t goin’ to faint air ye?” she asked +anxiously. “Lean on me, Creed. I wish’t I +knew what to do for ye!”</p> +<p>The young fellow, half unconscious indeed, put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +his head down upon her shoulder with a great +shuddering sigh.</p> +<p>“I’ll be better in a minute, dear,” he whispered. +“I reckon I got a little tired—riding so far.”</p> +<p>For some time Judith sat there, Creed’s head on +her shoulder, the black night all about them, the +little lighted station empty save for the clicking +of the telegraph instrument, and the footsteps of +the station master who had opened up for the +midnight train. She was desperately anxious and +at a loss which way to turn. And yet through all +her being there rolled a mighty undernote of joy. +As to the dweller on the coast the voice of the sea +is the undertone to all the sounds of man’s activities, +so beneath all her virginal hesitancies, her +half terror of what she had done, surged and sang +the knowledge that Creed was hers, her avowed +lover. She, Judith, had him here safe; she had +brought him away out of the mountains, from +those who would have harmed him—and those +who would have loved him too well. In all her +plannings up to this time she had never quite +been able to see clearly what should come after +getting Creed down into the valley. Over her +stormily beating heart now there rose and fell a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +little packet of bills, savings above necessary +expenditures on the farm, and her own modest +expenses, savings which had been accumulating +since Uncle Jephthah rented the place, and now +amounted to some hundreds of dollars. These +she had put in the bosom of her frock when she +set out on this enterprise, with, as she now +realised, the vaguest expectation of ever returning +to her uncle’s house.</p> +<p>“Creed,” she whispered, “air ye better?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” responded her charge, “yes—I’m +better.” But he made no movement to raise +his head, and with eyes long accustomed to darkness +she was able to see that his lids were still +closed.</p> +<p>“Creed,” she began again, “what shall I do for +you now? Must I go ask at the hotel will they +give you a room? Have you—have you got money +with you?”</p> +<p>Bonbright roused himself.</p> +<p>“I’m all right now,” he said in a strained +tone. “Yes, dear, I’ve got some money with me, +and a little more in the bank at Hepzibah. I +can get hold of that any time I want to. I don’t +know just what I’ll do,” he looked around him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +bewildered. This had not been his plan, and the +long ride down the mountain, and above all the +happiness of being with Judith, of her avowals +had made him forgetful of its exigencies. “I +reckon I’ll make out. You needn’t worry about +me any more, Judith. I’m safe down here.”</p> +<p>These words sounded dreadfully like a dismissal +to the girl. She locked her hands hard together in +her lap and fought for composure. An older +or a more worldly woman would have said to him +promptly that she could not leave him in this case, +and that if they were ever to be married it must +be now. But all the traditions of the mountain +girl’s life and upbringing were against such a +course. She gazed at him helplessly.</p> +<p>“I ain’t got but one friend on this earth, looks +like,” began Creed wearily, as he got to his +feet, “and now I’m obliged to send her away +from me.”</p> +<p>It was more than Judith could bear. She lifted +her swimming eyes to him in the dusk; he was +recovering self command and strength, but he +was still white, shaken, the bandaged head and +shoulder showing how close he had been to death. +Her love overbore virgin timidity and tradition. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span></p> +<p>“Don’t send me away then,” she said in the +deepest tones of that rich, passionate voice of +hers. “Ef hit’s me you’re namin’ when you +speak of having but one friend—don’t send me +away, Creed.”</p> +<p>He came close and caught her hand, looking +into her face with wondering half comprehension +of her words. That face was dyed with sudden, +burning red. She hoped and expected that he +would make the proffer which must come from +him. When he did not, she burst out in a +vehement, tense whisper,</p> +<p>“If—if you love me like you said you did——”</p> +<p>Creed hesitated, bewildered. He was too ill to +judge matters aright, but he knew one thing.</p> +<p>“I do love you,” he said with mounting firmness. +“I may be a mighty poor sort of a fellow—I’ve +begun to think so of late—but I love you.”</p> +<p>Judith put out both hands blindly toward him +whispering,</p> +<p>“And I love you. I don’t want nothin’ but to +be with you an’ help you, an’ take keer of you. +I’ll never leave you.”</p> +<p>For a moment the young fellow felt only the +dizzy rapture of her frank confession. In that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +instant he saw himself accepting her sacrifice, +taking her in his arms; in anticipation he tasted +the sweetness of her lips. Then pure reason, that +shrew who had always ruled his days, spoke loud, +as the bitterness of his situation rolled back upon +him.</p> +<p>“No—no!” he cried. “Judith—honey—I can’t +do that. Why, I’d be robbing you of everything +in the world. Your kin would turn against you. +Your farm would be lost to you, I reckon—I +don’t know when I’ll be able to go back and +claim mine.”</p> +<p>In the moment of strained silence that followed +this speech, with a sense of violent painful revulsion +the girl pushed him back when he would +timidly have clung to her. What woman ever +appreciated prudence in a lover? It is not a +lover’s virtue. Her farm—her farm! He could +listen to her confession of love for him, and speculate +upon the chances of her losing her farm by +it! She had one shamed, desperate instant when +she would have been glad to deny the words she +had spoken. Then Creed, reading her anger and +despair by the light of his own sorrows, said +brokenly: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span></p> +<p>“You feel—you’re offended at me now—but +Judith, you wouldn’t love me if I had taken you +at your word, and ruined all your chances in life. +I—Judith—dear—I’ll make this thing right yet. +I’ll come back—and you’ll forgive me then.”</p> +<p>With a sudden flaring up of strength he took +quiet mastery of the situation. He kissed her +tenderly, but sadly, not such a kiss as either could +ever have imagined their first would be.</p> +<p>“I love you too well to let you wed a man that’s +fixed like I am—a man that’s made such a +failure of life—a fugitive—a fellow that has nothing +to offer you, and no more standing with your +people than a hound dog. I love you better +than I do myself or my comfort—or even my +life.”</p> +<p>In anguished silence Judith received the caress; +dumb with misery she got to her horse. Creed +stood looking up at her for their last words, when, +with a rattle and clang, the train from the North +swept in and halted. Selim jibed and fought the +bit as any sensible mountain horse feels himself +entitled to do under similar circumstances; but +Judith heeded him almost not at all.</p> +<p>“My Lord—who’s that?” she cried, staring +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +toward the lighted train where the figure of a man +mounted the platform.</p> +<p>“What is it?” queried Creed.</p> +<p>“Hit looked like Blatch,” whispered the girl; +“but I reckon it couldn’t a-been.”</p> +<p>“Blatch!” echoed Creed, all on fire in an +instant—where now was her poor invalid whose +head she had pillowed, of whom she had thought +to take care? “Blatch Turrentine!—Good-bye, +honey—you mustn’t be seen with me. If Blatch +is here I’ve got to find and face him. You see +that, don’t you?—You understand.”</p> +<p>And he turned and left her so. Oh, these men, +with their quarrels and their nice points of honour—while +a woman’s heart bleeds under the scuffling +feet!</p> +<p>She watched him hurry to the train, his staggering +step advertising how unfit he was for any +such attempt, watched him mount the platform +where she had seen the man that looked like +Blatch; and then the conductor swung his lantern, +the wheels began to revolve, she half cried out, +and Selim at the end of his patience, bolted with +her and never stopped running till he had topped +the rise above the village. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span></p> +<p>Here, with some ado, she got him quieted, +brought to a standstill, got off and tightened the +girth, for the saddle was slipping dangerously. +She climbed on once more, mounting from a +fallen tree, and was moving again up the trail +when, down toward Garyville, someone called +her name.</p> +<p>“Judith!”</p> +<p>She did not turn her head. She knew to whom +the voice belonged. As he rode up to her:</p> +<p>“What you doin’ here, Blatch Turrentine?” +she demanded fiercely, “an’ what’ll the boys say +to you for slippin’ away from ’em to-night?”</p> +<p>He took her inferred knowledge of all his +enterprises without a word of comment. Bringing +his mule up closer to her where she sat on Selim he +answered:</p> +<p>“The boys know whar I’m at. We got word +last evenin’ that the man I sell to was waitin’ for +me in Garyville. He don’t know nobody but me +in the business, and nobody but me could do the +arrent. I hauled a load down, an’ I would have +been back in plenty time, ef I hadn’t met you and +Bonbright right thar whar that old Cherokee trail +comes into the Garyville road.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span></p> +<p>Judith started, her face burned in the darkness, +but she said nothing. Blatch peered curiously at +her as he went on:</p> +<p>“I reckon you never took notice of the waggon +that was under the bluff thar by the turn, but +that was my waggon, and I was a-settin’ on it. +I wheeled myse’f round, when I seed ’twas Bonbright, +and follered you two down to Garyville, +and put up my mules.”</p> +<p>Again he peered sharply at her.</p> +<p>“Jude,” as she still sat silent, “I won’t tell the +boys what kept me—I won’t tell them nary thing +about you. I’ll just let on that I happened to see +Bonbright at Garyville.”</p> +<p>“You tell what you’re a mind to,” said Judith +bitterly. “I don’t keer what you say.”</p> +<p>Blatchley took the retort coolly. But his +light grey eyes narrowed under the black brows.</p> +<p>“Bonbright seemed mightily upsot,” he commented. +“Went off on the train an’ left his mule +a-standin’.”</p> +<p><i>Went off on the train!</i> Judith’s heart leaped, +then stood still.</p> +<p>“Ye needn’t werry about it—I had Scomp put +it up, ’long o’ my other ’n. He’ll send ’em both +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +up a Wednesday. I reckon it ain’t to be wondered +at Bonbright was flustered. Who do you ’low +he went with on the railroad train? Jude, air +you so easy fooled as to think it was a new notion +for him to go to Garyville? Didn’t he name it +to you that it was a better place than Double +Springs?”</p> +<p>Leaning close and watching her face, he saw in +it confirmation.</p> +<p>“Shore. They was a little somebody on the +railroad train waitin’ to go on with him—after +he’d done kissed you good-bye—and <i>left</i> you!”</p> +<p>Judith sat, head up, staring at him. Her +less worthy nature was always instantly roused +by this man’s approach. Savage resentment, +jealousy, hate, stirred in her crushed spirit; they +raised their heads; their movement crowded out +grief and humiliation. It must be true—she had +proposed Double Springs, and he had said Garyville +would be better. He had refused in so many +words her offer of herself. He had kissed her——</p> +<p>“No!—no!—no!” she cried to the man before +her, “don’t you look at me—don’t you speak +to me.”</p> +<p>“Why, Judith,” he protested, hanging on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +Selim’s flank and talking to her as she whirled +the sorrel into the road and put him at the slope +at a pace which that petted animal very much +resented, “why Judith, ef one feller goes back on +you thataway you be mad at him—he’s the one +to be mad at. Here’s me, I stand willin’ to +make it up. Creed Bonbright has shamed you—he’s +left you; but you could make him look like +a fool if you would only say the word—and you +and me would——”</p> +<p>“Now you go back!” Judith turned upon him +as one speaks to a dog who is determined to +follow. “I ain’t nary ’nother word to say to you. +Leave me alone!”</p> +<p>“But Judith, hit ain’t safe for you to be ridin’ +up here in the night time, thisaway,” Blatch +insisted. “Lemme jest go along with you——”</p> +<p>“I’ll be a mighty heap safer alone than I’d +be with you,” Judith told him, urging Selim +ahead, “and anybody that knows you well will +say so. You—go—back.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIX_CAST_OUT' id='XIX_CAST_OUT'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +<h2>Chapter XIX</h2> +<h3>Cast Out</h3> +</div> + +<p>Judith reached the Top in the grey, disillusioning +light of early dawn. The moon, a ghastly +wraith, was far down in the west, the east had +not yet taken any hint of rose flush, but held that +pallid line of greyish white that precedes sunrise.</p> +<p>She clambered across the Gulch, her tired horse +stumbling with drooping head over the familiar +stones, and rode slowly up to the home place. The +huddle of buildings looked gaunt, deserted, inhospitable. +There was light here enough to see +the life which in daytime made all homelike, +but which now, quenched and hidden, left all +desolate, forbidding. As sleep takes on the +semblance of death, so the sleeping house took +on the semblance of desertion. The chickens +were still humped on their perches in the trees, the +cows had not come up to the milking-pen, their +calves lay in a little bunch by the fence fast asleep. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +To the girl’s heavy heart it seemed a spot utterly +forlorn in the chill, sad, ironic half-light of the +slow-coming morning.</p> +<p>She rode directly to the barn, unsaddled, and +put her horse out. As she was coming back past +her uncle’s cabin, she saw the old man himself +sitting in the door. He was fully dressed; his +hat lay on the doorstone beside him, and against +the jamb leaned Old Sister. He looked up +at her with a sort of indifferent, troubled +gaze.</p> +<p>“So you got back, Jude,” he said quietly.</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle Jep,” she returned as quietly.</p> +<p>He made no comment on her riding skirt which +she held up away from the drenching dew. He +asked no questions as to where she had been, or +what her errand. She noted that he looked old +and worn.</p> +<p>“I’m mighty sorry it happened,” he began +abruptly, quite as though he was continuing a +conversation which they had intermitted but a +few moments, “mighty sorry; but I don’t see no +other way. I’ve studied a heap on it. Folks +that stirs up trouble, gits trouble. I——”</p> +<p>He broke off and sat brooding. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></p> +<p>“I’m glad you ain’t mad at me for the part +I’ve tuck in it,” Judith began finally.</p> +<p>“Don’t tell me.” He raised a hasty, protesting +hand. “I don’t want to know nothin’ about it. +All is, <i>I</i> couldn’t have things according to my +ruthers, and they had to go as they must. Hit +ain’t what a man means that makes the differ—hit’s +what he does that we count. Them that +stirs up trouble, finds trouble.”</p> +<p>“I reckon so, Uncle Jep,” said the girl, drooping +as she stood.</p> +<p>“They ain’t been a roof between my head and +the sky sence I left this house,” the old man’s big +voice rumbled on monotonously, hollowly. “I +tromped the ridges over to’ds Yeller Old Bald. +I left mankind and their works behind me, and +I have done a power of thinking; but I can’t make +this thing come out no other way.”</p> +<p>He ceased and sat looking down. The girl +could fancy his solitary meals where he cooked +what he had killed and ate it, to lie down under +the sky and sleep. Women are denied this fleeing +to the desert to be alone with God and their sorrow. +She envied him the privilege. She had no heart +to repeat to him Creed’s statements that he was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +not a spy. That was all past—wiped out by the +parting between her and her lover.</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle Jep,” she uttered low, and with +bent head she moved dejectedly on toward the +house.</p> +<p>Here all the boys were sleeping noisily after +their vigils of the night before. About three +o’clock, or a little after, they had come home to +find their father turning in at the gate. With their +disappointment fresh upon them they broke +through his command of silence, and Wade told +him how they and Blatch had planned the ambush, +how Blatch had been called away, how they had +waited in the hollow for Creed, who had promised +to “come and talk to them,” how he had never +come, but how Arley Kittridge a few minutes ago +had ridden up to notify them that Bonbright +was gone from Nancy Card’s, and that the mule +was gone with him. None of the watchers could +say what direction he took, except to give earnest +assurances that he had not left by any trail leading +down the mountain. “He’s bound to be over +here somewhars,” Wade concluded, “and Blatch +not havin’ got back from Garyville, they two +has met somewhars.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span></p> +<p>The old man listened in silence, and when his +son had made an end offered neither comment +nor reply. He passed over without a word the +revelation of the deceit about Blatch’s supposed +killing. It was as though, weary and foredone, +he dismissed the young fellows to the logic of +events—to life itself—for response, explanation, +or punishment.</p> +<p>Judith changed her dress, bathed her pale face, +and set about preparing breakfast. And that +was a strange meal when she had finally put it on +the table and bidden them to it. The sons sat in +their places like chidden schoolboys, furtively +studying their father’s ravaged visage, looking +at each other and muttering requests or replies. +They were all aware of the ugliness of their +several offences. Creed’s strange disappearance, +Blatch’s failure to return, the utter collapse of +their errand, these had shaken them terribly.</p> +<p>About a third of the way through the meal Jim +Cal shuffled in.</p> +<p>“Do you mind givin’ me some breakfast, Jude?” +he asked humbly. “Iley an’ the chaps is all sound +asleep. I hate to wake ’em, an’ I never was no +hand to do for myse’f.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p> +<p>“Set and welcome,” said Judith, mechanically +placing a chair for the one who had been most +resolute of all that Creed must die. So it was that +they were all seated about the board when Blatch +Turrentine, without a word, made his appearance +in the door. Without moving his head Jephthah +turned those sombre eyes of his upon his +nephew, and regarded him steadily. The younger +man stopped where he was on the threshold.</p> +<p>“So ye ain’t dead?” inquired his uncle finally.</p> +<p>“I reckon that ain’t news to you, is it?” asked +Blatch, making as though to come in and take his +place at the table.</p> +<p>For a moment the loyalty of the tribal head, the +hospitality of the mountaineer, warred in old +Jephthah’s heart with deep, strong resentment +against this man. Then he said without rising,</p> +<p>“Yes, hit’s news. But you may take it that +hit’s news I ain’t heard. I reckon we’ll just +leave it that you <i>air</i> dead. The lease on the +ground over thar runs tell next spring. I’ll not +rue my bargain, but no son of mine sets his foot +on yo’ land and stays my son, and you don’t +put yo’ foot in this house again. You give it out +that you was dead—stay dead.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I see,” said Blatch. “Yo’ a-blamin’ the +whole business on me, air ye? Well, that’s +handy. What about them fine fellers that’s +settin’ at meat with ye now? I reckon the tale +goes that I led ’em into all their meanness.”</p> +<p>Jim Cal dropped his head and stared at the bit +of cornbread in his pudgy fingers; Wade glanced +up angrily; the twins stirred like young hounds in +leash; but Jephthah quieted them all with a look.</p> +<p>“Blatch,” began the head of the house temperately, +even sadly, “yo’ my brother’s son. +Sam and me was chaps together, and I set a heap +of store by him. Sam’s been gone more than ten +year, and in that time I’ve aimed to do by you +as I would by a son of my own. I felt that hit +was something I owed to Sam. But ef I owed hit +hit’s been paid out. Yo’ Sam’s son, but also yo’ +a Blatchley, and I reckon the Blatchley blood had +to show up in ye. My boys is neither better nor +worse than others, but when I say that I don’t aim +to have you walk with ’em, I say what is my right. +What I owed yo’ daddy, and my dead brother, +has been paid out—hit’s been paid plumb out.”</p> +<p>Now that it was made plain, Blatch took the +dismissal hardily. Perhaps he had been more or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +less prepared for it, knowing as he would have +phrased it that his uncle wanted but half a chance +to break with him. He was aware, too, that the +secret of his illicit traffic was safe in the old man’s +hands, and that indeed Jephthah would strain a +point to defend him for the name’s sake if for +nothing else.</p> +<p>“All right,” he said, “ef them’s yo’ ruthers, +hit suits me. What do you-all boys say?—I +reckon Unc’ Jep’ll let ye speak for yo’selves—this +one time.”</p> +<p>“I say what pap says,” came promptly from +Wade. And, “Jeff an’ me thinks it’s about +time pap’s word went with his boys,” put in the +younger and more emotional Andy.</p> +<p>“All right, all right,” agreed Blatch in some +haste, finding the battle to go thus sweepingly +against him. “I wont expect no opinions from +you, podner, tell you’ve had time to run home +an’ ax Iley what air they. Ye ain’t named +Judith, Unc’ Jep,” he went on, glancing to where +the girl knelt on the hearthstone dishing up corn +pones from the Dutch oven. “Cain’t she come +over and visit me when she has a mind?”</p> +<p>“Judith’s her own mistress. She can use her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +ruthers,” returned Jephthah briefly, “but I misdoubt +that you’ll be greatly troubled with her +company.”</p> +<p>“Help me git my things out of the cupboard +thar, Jude, won’t ye?” asked Blatch civilly enough.</p> +<p>Without reply, without glancing at him, Judith +preceded him into the fore-room, opened the +doors and sought out his clean clothing, making +it into a neat pile on the table.</p> +<p>“You come over and see me sometimes, won’t +ye, Judy?” whispered the tall man as he bundled +these up. “I won’t tell who I seen you with.”</p> +<p>Judith looked at him with wordless contempt. +Her own pain was so great that even anger was +swallowed up in it.</p> +<p>“Tell anybody you’re a mind to,” she said +listlessly. “I ain’t a-carin’.”</p> +<p>“I may git word of him, Jude,” persisted +Blatch as he was departing. “Ef I do would you +wish to hear it? Ef you say yes, I’ll send ye +notice.”</p> +<p>Again she glanced at him with that negligent +disdain. What could he do to her now who had +lost all? She was beyond the reach of his love +or his malice.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XX_A_CONVERSION' id='XX_A_CONVERSION'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +<h2>Chapter XX</h2> +<h3>A Conversion</h3> +</div> + +<p>And now Judith’s days strung themselves on +the glowing thread of midsummer weather +like black beads on a golden cord, a rosary of pain. +She told each bead with sighs, facing the morning +with a heavy heart that longed for darkness, lying +down when day was over in dread of the night +and a weariness that brought no sleep. And the +cedar tree, swayed in the raw autumn air, talking +to itself sombrely of the empty nest in its heart, +sounded upon her wakeful ears a note of desolation +and despair. For all the Turkey Tracks soon +knew that Blatch Turrentine was sound and whole; +all Hepzibah knew it eventually—and Creed +Bonbright neither returned nor made any sign.</p> +<p>The embargo being removed, Judith went +straight to Nancy Card.</p> +<p>In the preoccupation of her sorrow, she might +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +have forgotten Little Buck’s wounded heart; but +when as of custom Beezy came rioting out to +meet her, the man child hung back with so strange +a countenance that she needs must note it.</p> +<p>“Come here, honey,” she urged tenderly—her +own suffering made her very pitiful to the childish +grief.</p> +<p>Little Buck came slowly up to his idol, lifting +doubtful eyes to her face. The girl’s ready arm +went swiftly round the small figure.</p> +<p>“Are you pestered about that word I sent Creed +Bonbright by you?” she whispered.</p> +<p>The little boy nodded solemnly, and you could +see the choke in his throat.</p> +<p>“Well, you don’t need to be,” she reassured +him. “I had to send jest that word, Little Buck—jest +that very word; nothin’ less would ’a’ +brought him.”</p> +<p>Again the child nodded, twisting around to +look in her face, his own countenance clearing a +bit.</p> +<p>“But it don’t make any differ between you an’ +me, does it, honey?” she pursued. “You’re Jude’s +man, jest the same as you ever was, ain’t ye? +You wouldn’t never need to be jealous of anybody; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +’cause you know all the time that Judy +loves you.”</p> +<p>Silently the small man put his arms round her +neck and hugged her hard—an unusual demonstration +for Little Buck. And during her entire stay +he hung close about, somewhat to Nancy’s annoyance, +seeming to find plentiful joy in the contemplation +of his recovered treasure.</p> +<p>The loss of Creed had meant a good deal to +Nancy. More like a son than a boarder in her +house, he had brought with him a sense of support +and competence such as the hard-worked little +woman had never known. With his going, she +was back again in the old helpless, moneyless +situation, with Pony on her hands a growing +problem and anxiety, and Doss Provine but a +broken reed on which to lean. Such inquiries +after Creed as they managed to set afoot fetched +no return.</p> +<p>“Hit ain’t like Creed to be scared and keep +runnin’,” she would repeat pathetically. “I +know in reason something awful has chanced to +that boy. Either that, or it’s like they’re all +beginning to say, he’s wedded and gone to Texas +same as his cousin Cyarter done. Cyarter Bonbright +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +run away with a gal on the night she was +to have wedded another feller—tuck her right out +of the country and went to Texas. That’s +Bonbright nature: they ain’t much on sweet-heartin’ +an’ sech, but when they git it, they git +it hard.”</p> +<p>She laid a loving hand on the girl’s shoulder, +and leaned around to look frankly into the +beautiful, melancholy, dark face with the direct, +honest grey eyes that would admit no concealments +between herself and those whom she really +cared for.</p> +<p>“I speak right out to you, Jude,” she said +kindly, “’caze I see how hit’s been between you +an’ Creed, an’ hit’ll hurt you less if you get used +to the idy of givin’ him up. Him treated the +way he was, I don’t know as I’d blame him.”</p> +<p>But Judith could have blamed him. It was +only when despair pressed too hard that she could +say she would be glad to know he was alive even +though he belonged to somebody else. Yet to +credit Blatch’s story for a moment, to think he had +gone that night with Huldah Spiller, was to open +the heart’s door on such a black vista of treachery +and double-dealing in Creed’s conduct, to so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +utterly discredit his caring for herself, that she +had no defence but to disbelieve the whole tale, +and this she was generally able to do.</p> +<p>But as far away as Hepzibah a small event was +preparing that should break the monotony of +Judith’s grievous days. Venters Drane, the +elder’s twelve-year-old boy, going to school in +the village, fell ill of diphtheria. When word was +brought to the father—a widower and wise—he +loaded his three younger children and their small +belongings into the waggon and drove over to the +Turrentine place.</p> +<p>“I jest p’intedly ain’t got nary another place +to leave ’em, Sister Barrier, nor nary another +soul on earth that I could trust ’em with like I +could with you,” he said wistfully, after he had +explained the necessities of the case. “I’m on +my way down now to get Venters and bring him +home—look at that, will ye!” as the baby made a +dash for Judith who stood by the wheel looking up.</p> +<p>“They’re mighty welcome, Elder Drane,” +Judith declared warmly, receiving the little fellow +in open arms. “I’ll be glad to do for ’em.”</p> +<p>Martin and Lucy were old-fashioned, repressed, +timid children, with the pathetic outlook of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +young persons brought up by a melancholy, +ancient hireling. But the baby, glowing-eyed, +laughing-mouthed rogue, staggering valiantly on +sturdy, emulous legs, taking tribute everywhere +with all babyhood’s divine audacity, walked +straight into her heart. He slept beside her at +night, for him she darkened and quieted the +house of afternoons, lying down with him to watch +his slumbers, to brood with mother fondness upon +the round, rosy, small face, and the even, placid +breathing.</p> +<p>Drane had brought such clothing as they had, +but Judith found them ill-provided, and set to +work for them at once. Being a capable needlewoman +she soon had them apparelled more to +her liking, and the labour physicked pain. Sitting +in the porch sewing, with the baby tumbling about +the floor at her feet and Mart and Lucy building +play-houses in the yard under the trees, Judith +began dimly to realise that life, somewhere and +at some time, might lack all she had so passionately +craved, all she so piercingly regretted, and yet +hold some peace, some satisfaction. True she +was still desolate, robbed, despairing, yet with the +children to tend there were hours when she almost +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +lost sight of her own sorrow, in the sweet compulsion +of doing for them.</p> +<p>Jim Cal shook his head over these arrangements. +“Looks like to me ef I was a widower with chaps, +trying to wed a fine lookin’, upheaded gal like +Jude, I’d a’ kep’ the little ’uns out of her sight as +much as I could, ’stid of fetchin’ ’em right to her. +Hit seems now as though she muched them greatly, +but she’s sartin shore to find out what a sight o’ +trouble chaps makes, and ain’t any woman +wantin’ more work than she’s ’bleeged to have.”</p> +<p>Lacking active concerns of his own, James Calhoun +was always greatly interested in those of the +persons about him. Judith’s doings, on account +of her reticence, beauty and high spirit, proved a +theme of unending, mild interest.</p> +<p>“Jude,” he opened out one day as he sat on the +edge of the porch while his cousin was busy with +some sewing for her little visitors, “did ye hear +’bout Lace Rountree?”</p> +<p>Judith never moved her eyes from her work. +“I know they’s sech a person,” she said evenly, +“if that’s what you mean.”</p> +<p>“No, but have ye heared of how he’s a-doin’ +here lately?” persisted the fat man. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +“I don’t know as anybody has named anything +special to me about Lacey Rountree or his doin’s,” +Judith returned with a rising irritation. “Why +should they?”</p> +<p>Jim Cal heaved a wheezy sigh. “’Caze yo’ said +to be the cause of it,” he expounded with lugubrious +enjoyment. “Lace Rountree is fillin’ hisse’f +up on corn whiskey and givin’ it out to each and +every that he’s goin’ plumb straight <i>di</i>-rect to the +dav-il, an’ all on yo’ accounts—’caze you wouldn’t +have ’im. Now what do you make out o’ that?”</p> +<p>“I make out that some folks are mighty big +fools,” retorted Judith with asperity. “Lace +Rountree is no older than Jeff and Andy—he’s +two years younger’n I am—why, he’s like a child +to me. I never no more thought of Lace Rountree +than I’d think of—well, not so much as I would +of Little Buck Provine.”</p> +<p>“Uh-huh,” agreed Jim Cal shaking his head +dolefully, “that’s the way you talk; but you-all +gals had ort to have a care how you toll fellers on. +Here’s Huldy got Wade so up-tore about her +that he’s a-goin’ to dash out and git him a place +on the railroad whar he’s mighty apt to be killed +up; and you——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span></p> +<p>“I what?” prompted Judith sharply, as he +came to a wavering pause.</p> +<p>“Well—they was always one man that you +give good reason to expect you’d wed him. I +myse’f have heared you, more’n forty times I +reckon, say to Blatch Turrentine—or if not say +it in so many words, at least——”</p> +<p>“Cousin Jim,” broke in Judith, carefully +ignoring this last charge, “so far as that Lace +Rountree is concerned, did you ever know of a +reckless feller that come to no good but what he +had some gal at whose door he could lay it all? I +vow I never did. They ain’t a drinkin’ whiskey +becaze they like it; they don’t git into no interruptions +becaze they’re mad—it’s always +’count o’ some gal that has give ’em the mitten. +I’ll thank you not to name Lace Rountree to me +again, nor—nor anybody else,” as she saw his +eyes wander to the sewing in her lap.</p> +<p>“Well, Drane’s old enough to look out for +hisse’f,” said Jim Cal, rising and trying his joints +apparently for a movement toward home. “Ef +you choose to toll him on by takin’ care of his +chaps, that’s yo’ lookout, and his lookout—’taint +mine; but ’ef I was givin’ the man advice, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +I’d say to him that he might about as well take +’em home, or hunt up some other gal to leave ’em +with, ’caze yo’ apt to much the chil’en and then +pop the do’ in the daddy’s face.”</p> +<p>The weeks brought piecemeal confirmation of +Jim Cal’s dismal forebodings. Elihu Drane took +advantage of every pretext to haunt about the +roof that sheltered his children. Though he was +not with the sick boy, he made the presence of a +“ketchin’ town disease” in his home, reason for +not coming near the little ones, but called Judith +down to the draw-bars to talk to him. When he +had her there at such disadvantage, he so pertinaciously +urged his unwelcome suit that he made +her finally glad to be rid of the children, to see +him, when Venters was once more well, take them +away with him and give her respite from his +importunities.</p> +<p>In the case of Wade, too, the fat man’s pessimistic +expectations were realised; the young man +did, early in August, dash out and secure a place +on the railroad. Mountain people write few letters. +They heard nothing from him after the first +message which told them where he was employed +and what wages he was to have. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span></p> +<p>It was September when Iley announced to +Judith that she had word from some of Pap +Spiller’s kin who were living in Garyville, that +acquaintances of theirs from Hepzibah, coming +down to the circus at the larger town, had given +them roundabout and vague news of Huldah. +The girl had delayed in Hepzibah but a few days. +The story as it came up on the mountain was that +she had married “some feller from Big Turkey +Track, and gone off on the railroad.”</p> +<p>“Them Tuels is mighty po’ hands to remember +names,” Iley said. “But all ye got to do is to look +around and take notice of anybody that’s gone +from Big Turkey Track here lately. Ye can fix +it to suit yo’se’f. But I reckon Huldy has made a +good match, and I’m satisfied.”</p> +<p>Judith looked upon the floor in silence. In +silence she left the cabin and took her way to +her own home. And that night, while the cedar +tree talked to her in the voice of love—Creed’s +voice—she fought with dragons and slew them, +and was slain by them.</p> +<p>When Blatchley Turrentine had asserted this +thing to her at Garyville, she found somewhere—after +her first gust of unreasoning resentment +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +was past—strength to disbelieve it utterly. But +now it came again in more plausible guise. +It gained likeliness from mere repetition. And +hardest of all to bear, she was totally unsupported +in her trust. She knew Creed, knew his love for +her; yet to cling to it was to fly in the face of +probabilities, and of everything and everybody +about her. The lover who is silent, absent from +her who loves him, at such a time, runs tremendous +risks.</p> +<p>It was the set or turn of the year’s tide; sunsets +were full, rich, yellow, and a great round, +golden moon swung in the evening sky above the +purple hills. A soft, purring monotone of little +tree crickets in the night forest replaced the shriller +insect chorus of midsummer. Garden patches, +about through their summer yield, were a tangle +of bubble-tinted morning glories, the open woods +misty with wild asters, bell flowers trembling +from the crevices of rocks; and along fence-row +and watercourse turkey-pea, brook sunflower, +queen of the meadow, and joepye-weed made +gay the land.</p> +<p>Such farm work as remained was only garnering—fodder-pulling, +pea-hay and millet hay to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +gather; with a little sowing of wheat, rye, or turf +oats.</p> +<p>In late midsummer and early fall revivalists, +preachers, and exhorters go through the Cumberlands +holding protracted meetings in the little +isolated churches. At this time of year the men +as well as the women are most at liberty. To a +people who live scattered through a remote and +inaccessible region, who have few and scanty +public gatherings and diversions, this season of +religious activity offers the one emotional outlet +which their conception of dignity permits them, +and it is proportionately precious in their eyes. +In addition to the women and the girls and boys, +who usually make up the rank and file of religious +gatherings elsewhere, here at this favoured season +old fellows, heads of families and life-long pillars +of the Church, give up their entire time to the +meetings. The family is put into the waggon with +a basket of dinner, and they make a day of it. +Services hold as late as twelve and one o’clock, +and after them this contained, stoic folk will go +home through the woods, carrying pine torches, +singing, shouting, laughing, sobbing.</p> +<p>Hiram Bohannon came into the two Turkey +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +Tracks this year and held services at Brush Arbour +church. He was very much in earnest, Brother +Bohannon, a practical man with a rough native +eloquence that spoke loud to his hearers.</p> +<p>Every afternoon the wild, sweet hymns rang +out over the little cup-like valley in which Brush +Arbour church stood. The month was extremely +warm, and they used the outside brush arbour from +which the schoolhouse-church received its name.</p> +<p>Judith went day and night in a feverish attempt +to get away from herself and her sorrows. Even +the fact that Elihu Drane was very much to the +fore in these gatherings could not deter her. +Sitting in the open there, her hands clasped upon +her knee, her sombre eyes on the ground, or +interrogating the distance with an unseeing stare, +she would let hymn and sermon, prayer and the +weeping and shouting which always close night +meeting, go past her ears well-nigh unheard. +Before those darkened, bereaved eyes, turn where +they would, Love’s ever-renewed idyl of rustic +courtship was enacting, since Big Meetin’ was the +time and occasion of all the year for Corydon to +encounter Phyllis, to stroll or sit beneath the +trees with her, possibly to “carry her home.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span></p> +<p>Andy and Jeff began taking the Lusk girls to +meeting, and within a week’s time two very pale +young men—the twins always acted in concert—stumbled +up the earthen aisle between the puncheon +seats to join the group at the mourners’ +bench and ask for the prayers of the congregation. +Brother Bohannon knew what quarry +he had netted, and he hurried down at once, +half in doubt that this was another scheme of +these young daredevils to make game of his +meeting. But both boys were on their knees, +and the tears with which they began confessing +to him past sins, the penitence of their shaking +voices, proclaimed the genuineness of their +conversion.</p> +<p>Cliantha and Pendrilla left behind—they had +been sober church members since they were +twelve years old—fluttered to Judith and demanded +her instant attention to the miracle.</p> +<p>“Oh, Judith, ain’t it jest too good to be true?” +panted little Cliantha. “Jeff never did lack anything +of bein’ the best man that ever walked this +earth except to jine the church—an’ now look at +him!”</p> +<p>“And Andy, too,” put in Pendrilla jealously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +“I do believe Andy is a prayin’ the loudest—I’m +shore he is.”</p> +<p>Judith roused herself. “I’m mighty glad—for +the both of ye,” she said kindly.</p> +<p>And then she looked at their tremulous, happy +faces, at the kneeling boys up among the press +of figures about the pulpit, and burst into a +storm of weeping. Where was her lover? Where +was Creed? Dead—or he had forgotten her.</p> +<p>“Are you under conviction of sin, sister?” +inquired one of the helpers.</p> +<p>Judith let it pass at that, and flung herself +on her knees beside the bench to wait until the +last hymn and the dismissal.</p> +<p>Brother Bohannon was an extremely practical +Christian; his creed applied to every day in the +year and to the most commonplace acts. He +adjured his converts not only to quit their meanness, +but to go and acknowledge past errors, to +repair such evil as they could, and if possible to +seek forgiveness from man, certain that God’s +forgiveness would follow. Such counsel as this +brought the twins to their father’s cabin early +on the morning after their conversion at Brush +Arbour church. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></p> +<p>“Pap,” began Andy standing before his parent +with an odd suggestion of the small boy caught +in mischief, “me and Jeff are aimin’ to join the +church.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, son,” said the old man rising +and clapping a hearty hand on each young +shoulder. “I’m mighty proud to hear it. Hit’s +a good way for fellers like you to start out in this +world.”</p> +<p>“Well, befo’ we do so,” Jeff took up the burden, +“the preacher says we ort to confess our sins +and git forgiveness from them we have done +wrong by. Creed Bonbright ain’t here. Mebbe +he’s never goin’ to be back any mo’. We talked +it over and ’lowed we’d better come tell you, +pap.”</p> +<p>At Creed Bonbright’s name a pathetic change +went over old Jephthah’s pleased countenance. +He had received the opening words with satisfaction, +not untinctured by the mild, patronising +indulgence we show to children. But when Bonbright +was mentioned he sat back in his chair, nervously +knocking the ash from his pipe, anxiously +staring at the boys.</p> +<p>“I’m mighty proud,” he repeated, “to hear +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +what you say.” He spoke gravely and with +dignity; but a note of uncontrollable eagerness +stole into his voice, as he added in a lower tone, +“What mought you-all have to tell me about +Creed Bonbright?”</p> +<p>“Pap, we done you a meanness in that business,” +hastened Jeff. “We had no call to lie +to you like we done, and send the feller word in +yo’ name.”</p> +<p>“Wade, he was mad about his gal,” agreed +Andy thoughtfully, “but what possessed me and +Jeff I’ll never tell ye. Spy or no spy, we done +that man wrong.”</p> +<p>Jephthah looked expectantly and in silence +from one young face to the other.</p> +<p>“Blatch let on to you hit was the still; but of +course we knowed hit was Jude that ailed him. +He got Taylor Stribling to toll Creed to Foeman’s +Bluff that night,” Jeff supplied. “Blatch picked +the quarrel, and drawed a knife when they was +wrastlin’, and when Bonbright pushed Blatch +away from him, he fell over the cliff. That’s +God’s truth about the business, pappy, ef I ever +spoke it. Me an’ Andy an’ Wade was all into it.”</p> +<p>The boyish countenance was pale, and Jeff +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +drew a nervous hand across his brow as he +concluded. There followed a lengthened silence. +Old Jephthah sat regarding his own brown right +hand as it lay upon his knee.</p> +<p>“Ye tolled him thar,” he said finally. “Ye +tolled him thar. Then Creed Bonbright wasn’t +no spy.” He lifted his head. “I never could +make it figure up right for that feller to be a spy. +Curious he was, and he had some idees that I +couldn’t agree with; but a spy——”</p> +<p>He broke off suddenly, and one saw how strong +had been the bond between him and the young +justice, how greatly he cared that the memory of +the man even should be cleared.</p> +<p>The boys looked at each other, and with a gulp +Jeff began again:</p> +<p>“I reckon you knowed well enough we stood +in with Blatch when he hid out and let folks +believe the killin’ had been did. We knowed you +seen through it all; but when ye git started in a +business like that, one thing leads on to another, +and befo’ you’re done with it, ye do a plenty +that you’d ruther not.”</p> +<p>“Well, hit’s over and cain’t be he’ped, but +you’ve done what’s right at last,” Jephthah +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +assured them. “The church is a mighty good +thing for young fellers like you. A good wife’ll +do a sight to he’p along.”</p> +<p>He looked at them kindly. He had never liked +his boys half so well.</p> +<p>“I’m mighty proud of the both of ye,” he +concluded heartily. “Ef Creed Bonbright ever +does come back in the mountains, we’ll show him +that the Turrentines can be better friends than +foes to a man.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXI_THE_BAPTISING' id='XXI_THE_BAPTISING'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +<h2>Chapter XXI</h2> +<h3>The Baptising</h3> +</div> + +<p>October had led forth her train across the +Cumberlands. One night the forest was +fairly green, but early risers next morning found +that in the darkness while they slept the hickories +had been touched to gold, the oaks smitten with +a promise of the glowing mahogany-red which was +to be theirs. Sourwood and sumach blazed; +the woodbine flung its banner of blood, chestnuts +were yellow where the nuts dropped through them +from loosened burs. The varying dark greens +of balsam and fir, pine and cedar, heightened by +contrast the glow of colour, while the dim blue +sky above set its note of tender distance and +forgetfulness. On a thousand mountain peaks +smoked and smouldered, flared and flamed the +altar fires of autumn.</p> +<p>After that each day saw a deepening of the +glory in the hills. It was like a noble overture a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +multitudinous chorus made visible. The marvel +of it was that one sense should be so clamorously +challenged while the other was not addressed. +The ear hearkened ever amid that grand symphony +of colour for some mighty harmony of sound. But +even the piping song-birds were gone, and the cry +of a hawk wheeling high in the blue, the voice of +a woman calling her cow, these sounded loud in +the autumnal hush.</p> +<p>The streams were shrunken to pools whose clear +jade reaches reflected the blazing banners above +them, and offered mimic seas for the sailing of +painted argosies when the wind shook the leaves +down. There was a fruity odour of persimmon +and wild grape forever in the air. The salmon-pink +globes stood defined against the blue on +leafless twigs, while the frost sweetened them to +sugary jelly, and the black wild grape by the water-courses +yielded an odour that was only less material +than the flavour of its juices. Every angle of +the rail fences became a parterre with golden-rod, +cat-brier, and the red-and-yellow pied leaves of +blackberries, while a fringe of purple and white +asters thrust fragile fingers through the rails below, +or the stout iron-weed pushed its purple-red +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +blooms into view at the head of tall, lance-like +stems.</p> +<p>Judith walking in the woods one day found a +great nest of Indian pipe. She bent listlessly to +pick the waxen mystic blossoms, thinking to +herself that they were like some beautiful dead +thing; and then she came upon a delicate flush +on the side of their clear, translucent pearl, and +wondered if it were an omen.</p> +<p>It was a gorgeous October Sabbath when the +boys were baptised. Baptisms always took place +from Brush Arbour in a sizable pool of Lost Creek +which flows through one corner of the little valley +that holds the church building. The sward which +ran down to its clear mirror was yet green, but +the maples and sourwoods above it were coloured +splendidly. Among their clamant red and yellow +laurel and rhododendron showed glossy green, and +added to the gay tapestry. The painted leaves +let go their hold on twig or bough and dropped +whispering into the water, like garlands flung to +dress the coming rite.</p> +<p>Morning meeting was over. The women-folks +who had come far spread dinner on the grass near +the church, joining together occasionally, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +children wandering about in solemn delight with +a piece of corn pone in hand, whispering among +the graves in the tiny God’s acre, spelling out +the words upon some wooden head-board, or the +rarer stone.</p> +<p>The Big Spring was the customary gathering +place of the young people before church, and +during intermissions, about its clear basin, on +the slopes above the great rock from under which +it issued, might be seen a number of couples, the +boys in Sunday best of jeans or store-bought +clothing, the girls fluttering in cheap lawns or +calicoes, and wearing generally hats instead of +the more becoming sunbonnet. Judith had been +used to lead her following here, and the number +of her swains would have been a scandal in any +one else: but there was a native dignity about +Judith Barrier that kept even rural gossip at +bay. This morning, however, when Elder Drane +gave her the customary invitation to walk down +there for a drink, she refused, and all during the +first service the widower had sat tall and reproachful +on the men’s side and reminded her +of past follies. She was aware of his accusing +eyes even when she did not look in his direction, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +and uncomfortably aware too that others saw +what she saw.</p> +<p>Throughout the pleasant picnic meal, shared +with its group of neighbours, the sight of Andy +and Jeff with Cliantha and Pendrilla aggravated a +dull pain which dragged always in her heart, and +when dinner was over and they had packed the +basket once more, and set it in the back of the +waggon, she left them, to wander by herself on +the farther side of Lost Creek, sitting down finally +in the shade of a great sourwood, and looking +moodily at the water. All afternoon she sat +there wrapt in her own emotions, forgetful of +time and place. The congregation straggled +back into the little log church, and the second +service was begun. The preacher’s voice came +floating out to her softened by distance, and with +it the sound of singing; as the meeting drew to its +close an occasional more vociferous “Amen!” or +“Glory!” or “Praise God!” made itself heard. +The sun was beginning to slant well from the +west when she got suddenly to her feet with +the startled realisation that afternoon preaching +was over, the people were pouring from the church +door, streaming across the green toward the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +baptising pool. They were in the middle of a +hymn.</p> +<table summary='poetry' style=' margin-left:4em;'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“Oh, wanderer return—return,”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>came their musical tones across the water. The +grey-haired old preacher was in the lead, his +black coat blowing about him, the congregation +spreading out fan-wise as they followed after, +Andy and Jeff arm in arm, the half-dozen others +who were to be baptised walking with them.</p> +<p>Her fretted, pining spirit had no appreciation +left for the appeal of the picture. She gazed, and +looked away, and groaned. “Oh, wanderer +return,” they sang—almost her heart could not +bear the words.</p> +<p>She sighed. Ought she to cross the foot-log +and be with them when the boys were dipped? +But while she hesitated the singers struck up +a different hymn, a louder, more militant strain. +Brother Bohannon was at the water; he was wading +in; he was up to his knees now—up to his +waist.</p> +<p>“Send ’em in, Brother Drane,” she heard him +call. “This is about deep enough. That’s right—give +me the young men first. When the others +see them dipped they’ll have no fear.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span></p> +<p>Elihu Drane took Andy’s arm, and another +helper laid hold of Jeff.</p> +<p>“Sing—sing brethren and sisters,” admonished +the preacher. “Make a joyful noise unto the +Lord. This is the time for Hallelujahs. Ef ye +don’t sing now, when will ye ever?”</p> +<p>Andy spoke low in the elder’s ear, whereupon +he was released, and turned to his brother; hand-in-hand +the two stepped into the water alone. +Judith saw the pale, boyish faces, strangely refined +by the exaltation of spirit which was upon them, +as the twins waded out toward the preacher. +Bohannon called to Jeff, shook hands with him, +shouted, “Praise God, brother. Glory! Glory! +Now—make yo’se’f right stiff. Let me have ye. +Don’t be scared. I won’t drop ye. I’ve baptised +a many before you was born, son.” His +right hand was lifted dripping above the dark +head. “I baptise ye, Thomas Jefferson Turrentine, +in the name of the Father, and the Son, and +the Holy Ghost, Amen.”</p> +<p>“Amen—Amen!” came the deep chorus from +the bank, the high, plaintive women’s voices +undertoned by the masculine bass.</p> +<p>The black coat sleeve went around the white-clad +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +shoulders, the preacher dropped his new +convert gently backward into the shining water, +dipped him, and Jeff who was not an excellent +swimmer for nothing, came up quiet, smiling, and +stood aside to wait for his brother.</p> +<p>“Sing—sing!” cried the preacher. “Here goes +another soul on its way to glory,” and he reached +forth to take Andy. A moment later he sent him, +drenched, but washed clean of his sins, so far +as mountain belief goes, after his twin. The +hallelujahs burst forth to greet the boys: joyful +shouts, amens, and some sobbing when, hand-in-hand—even +as they had gone in—they came up +out of the water.</p> +<p>“Mighty pretty to look at, ain’t it?” said a +voice at Judith’s shoulder.</p> +<p>She turned to find Blatch Turrentine standing +behind her.</p> +<p>“I reckon Andy and Jeff is goin’ to be regular +little prayin’ Sammies from this out,” jeered the +newcomer.</p> +<p>“Granny Lusk has given her consent for them +and the gals to be wedded,” remarked Judith +softly. To her—and perhaps to Cliantha and +Pendrilla also—the main importance of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +twins’ conversion was in this permission, which +had been withheld so long as they were wild and +had a bad name.</p> +<p>“I heared of another weddin’ that might interest +ye,” Blatch insinuated. “Want to come +and walk a piece over by the Big Spring, +Judy?”</p> +<p>Judith turned uncertainly. The boys had +passed on up to the sheds to get on dry clothing. +It was nearly time for her to be going back to the +waggon. Bohannon was dipping Doss Provine’s +sister Luna. A group of trembling, tearful +candidates, mostly young girls, were being +heartened and encouraged for the ordeal by the +helpers on the bank.</p> +<p>“Tell me here—cain’t ye?” she said listlessly.</p> +<p>“I heared from a feller that got it from another +feller,” Blatch began smilingly, “that Huldy +Spiller an’ Creed Bonbright was wedded and gone +to Texas. I reckon hit’s true, becaze the man that +told me was aimin’ to buy the Bonbright farm.”</p> +<p>Judith did not cry out. She hoped her colour +did not change very much, for Blatch’s eyes were +on her face. After a while she managed to say +in a fairly steady voice, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span></p> +<p>“Does Wade know? Have ye sent any word +to him?”</p> +<p>“No,” drawled Blatch. “Unc’ Jep aimed to +break off with me, and he left you the only one o’ +the family that dared speak with me. Mebbe you +would like to write an’ tell Wade?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” sighed Judith hopelessly. +“What’s the use?”</p> +<p>“Farewell,” said Blatch, using a common +mountain form of adieu. “I reckon Unc’ Jep +won’t want to see me standin’ around talkin’ to +ye. You tell Wade,” significantly. “The sooner +he gets Huldy out of his head the better for him. +No use cryin’ over spilt milk. They’s as good +fish in the sea as ever come out of it.”</p> +<p>He looked long at her downcast face.</p> +<p>“Jude, the man that told me that about Bonbright,” +he said, speaking apparently on sudden +impulse, “’lowed that the feller had left you—give +ye the mitten. You’re a fool ef ye let that +be said, when his betters is wantin’ ye.”</p> +<p>Without another word, without a glance, he +turned and slouched swiftly away down the path +behind the fringe of bushes by the creek side.</p> +<p>The baptising was over. Judith, crossing the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +stream, saw her uncle’s waggon, Beck and Pete +already hitched to it, being loaded with Jim Cal +and his tribe. Andy and Jeff were horseback +with the Lusk girls. She hurried forward to join +them and make ready for departure when, to her +dismay, she encountered Drane at the foot of the +slope coming toward her.</p> +<p>“Wasn’t that thar Blatchley Turrentine?” +inquired the elder.</p> +<p>The girl nodded.</p> +<p>“I didn’t see him in the church,” Drane pursued.</p> +<p>“I reckon he wasn’t there,” assented Judith +lifelessly, making as though to pass on.</p> +<p>“He jest came here to have speech with you, +did he?” inquired the man, nervously, brushing +his sandy whiskers with unquiet fingers.</p> +<p>“I reckon he did,” acknowledged Judith +without coquetry, without interest.</p> +<p>“Jude!” burst out the widower, “I promised +you I never would again ax you to wed; but I’m +obliged to know ef you’re studyin’ about takin’ +that feller.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Judith, resenting nothing, “I +never did aim to wed Blatch Turrentine, and +I never will.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span></p> +<p>The elder stood directly in her path, blocking +the way and staring down at her miserably for +a long minute.</p> +<p>“That’s what you always used to tell me,” +he remarked finally with a heavy sigh. “Back +in them days when you let me hope that I’d see +you settin’ by my fireside with my children on +your knees, you always talked thataway about +Blatch—I reckon you talked thataway of me +to him.”</p> +<p>Judith’s pale cheek slowly crimsoned. She +looked upon the ground. “I’m mighty sorry,” +she said slowly.</p> +<p>Elihu Drane’s faded eyes lighted with fresh +fires. He caught the hand that hung by her side.</p> +<p>“Oh, Jude—do you mean it?” he cried. “Do +you care? You don’t know how the chaps all +love ye and want ye. That old woman I’ve +got doin’ for ’em ain’t fittin’ to raise ’em. Everybody +tells me I’ve got to marry and give ’em a +mother, but I cain’t seem to find nobody but you. +If you feel thataway—if you’ll——”</p> +<p>Judith drew her hand away with finality, but +her eyes were full of pitying kindness. She knew +now what she had done to this man. By the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +revealing lamp of her own suffering she read his. +Back in the old days she had counted him only +one more triumph in her maiden progress.</p> +<p>“No,” she said gravely, “I ain’t studyin’ +about marryin’ anybody. I’m mighty sorry +that I done thataway. I’m sorry, and ashamed; +but I have to say no again, Elder Drane. There +ain’t never goin’ to be no other answer.”</p> +<p>“Hit’s that feller Bonbright,” declared the +elder sternly as he stood aside to let her pass. +“Good Lord, why ain’t the man got sense enough +to come back and claim his own!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXII_EBBTIDE' id='XXII_EBBTIDE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +<h2>Chapter XXII</h2> +<h3>Ebb-Tide</h3> +</div> + +<p>Life closed in on Judith after that with an iron +hand. She missed sorely the children’s +demands upon her, their play and prattle and +movement about the place. Huldah was gone. +Wade was gone. She could get no news of Creed. +The things to love and hate and be jealous of +seemed to have dropped out of her existence, so +that the heart recoiled upon itself, the spirit +wrestled blindly in darkness with an angel which +was but its own self in other guise.</p> +<p>Day by day she turned from side to side for an +exit from the fiery path she trod, and cried out to +Heaven that she could not bear it—she could not +stand it—there must be some way other than +this!</p> +<p>The Lusk girls and the Turrentine twins were +to have a double wedding. The preparations +for this event were torture to Judith. Everybody, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span> +it seemed, could be happy but her own poor self. +Even the fact that Jeff and Andy were changed, +kinder to her, more considerate, better men in +every way, had its own sting. If this could have +been so before, the wreck of her world need not +have come about.</p> +<p>Blatch kept rigorously to his own side of the +Gulch, yet once in a while Judith met him on the +highroad; and then, while he approached her with +the carefullest efforts toward pleasing, he showed +the effects of anxiety, the hard life, and the fact +that he had begun to drink heavily—a thing he +had never done before.</p> +<p>Spring would terminate his lease of the Turrentine +farm, and then he must seek other quarters +for his illicit traffic. His situation was doubled in +danger by the fact that it could not be disguised +how his uncle had turned upon him. Now that +one did not, supposably, incur the displeasure of +the Turrentines by giving information concerning +Blatch and his still, the enterprise was a much +safer one, and he trembled in hourly terror of +its being undertaken by some needy soul. This +terror gave a certain ferocity to his manner. Also +the man who had come in with him to take Jim +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +Cal’s place in the partnership was a more undesirable +associate even than Buck Shalliday.</p> +<p>Judith watched all these things with an idle +lack of interest that was strangely foreign to her +vivid human temperament. As time passed and +she could hear nothing from Creed Bonbright, +nor of him beyond what Blatch had told her, and +the connection she made between it and Iley’s +report of Huldah’s marriage, the inaction of her +woman’s lot was almost more than she could +endure. Of an evening after her milking was +over she would stand at the draw-bars under the +wide, blue, twilight sky, and stare with her great, +black, passionate eyes into the autumn dusk, +and her whole being went forth with such an +intensity of longing that it seemed some part of it +must find Creed, wherever he was, and speak for +her to him.</p> +<p>After Iley’s announcement in September Judith +never approached her nor talked to her again, +though the shrew was growing strangely mild +and disciplined since Jim Cal had broken with +Blatch Turrentine and was become a partner in +his father’s affairs—a husband who is out of the +good books of other people is a scold-maker with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span> +the type of woman Jim Cal had married. To go +near Pendrilla and Cliantha was to be overwhelmed +instantly with the joyous details of +their wedding preparations. Judith flinched from +bringing her troubles before such happy eyes. +She had but Aunt Nancy.</p> +<p>It was bitter hard times at the little cabin +on The Edge. Doss Provine had begun actively +looking for a “second,” and his courting operations +sorely interfered with the making of the +small crop. Nancy took the field behind the +plough; but her efforts came late and availed little. +There was scarcely food for their mouths; she +was continually harassed by anxiety concerning +Pony, who had got to running with a bad crowd +in Hepzibah. And finally the thing happened +which had not been since Big Turkey Track was +a mountain and Nancy Card was born in that +small cabin. At her wit’s end, she took Little +Buck and Breezy and went away to visit a married +daughter whose husband worked in a machine-shop +in a valley settlement, leaving Doss Provine +to stay with his kin for the time. There was +plenty at her daughter’s table, and a warm welcome +awaiting her and the children; besides, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span> +man of the house had promised to find a job for +her spoiled boy, and give him the masculine oversight +and discipline he needed. At Hepzibah she +gathered up that rather astonished young man, +exerting for once the real authority that was in +her, and with him set out on this formidable +journey.</p> +<p>Just once old Jephthah went past that closed +door. Just once he looked on the little front +yard spilling over its rived palings with autumn +blossoms. And he came home so out of joint +with life, in so altogether impossible a mood, +that it was fairly unsafe to mention as innocent a +matter as the time of day to him. Up to now +perhaps he had not known what a very large +place in his life those almost daily quarrels with +his old sweetheart filled. Now the restlessness +which had come with the trouble over Creed +Bonbright was renewed; he wandered about +aimlessly, with a good word for nothing and +nobody, and opined darkly that his liver was out +of order.</p> +<p>“Aunt Nancy told me one time that she would +almost be willin’ to wed you to get a chance +to give you a good course of spring medicine for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span> +that thar liver,” remarked Judith casually. And +then she looked up with a wan little smile, to +find an expression in her uncle’s eyes that set +her wondering.</p> +<p>Oh, dear Heaven—was it like that? Would +she grieve for Creed all her life long, till she was +an old, old woman? She declared it should not +be so. Love would never be within her reach—within +the reach of her utmost efforts—and +escape her, leave her an empty husk to be blown +by the wind of years to the dust pile of death. +One day in this mood she broke down and talked +to the Lusk girls.</p> +<p>“He said he’d shore come back,” she concluded +hopelessly. “Well, anyhow, he named things +that would be done when he come back. I call +that a promise. I keep thinking he’ll come +back.”</p> +<p>Pendrilla sat, her great china-blue eyes fixed +on Judith’s tense, pale, working face, and the big +tears of pure emotional enjoyment began to slip +down her pink cheeks. In the glow of Judith’s +splendid, fiery nature, the two pale little sisters +warmed themselves like timid children at a chance +hearth. As the full, vibrant voice faltered into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span> +silence, Cliantha went forward and took her +favourite position on her knees beside Judith, +her arms raised and slipped around the taller +girl’s waist.</p> +<p>“Oh,” she began, with a sort of frightened +assurance. “Ef my lover had gone from me +thataway, and I didn’t know whar he was at, +an’ couldn’t git no news to him nor from him, I +know mighty well and good what <i>I’d</i> do.”</p> +<p>“What?” whispered Judith, young lioness that +she was, reduced to taking counsel from this +mouse, “what would you do, Clianthy?”</p> +<p>“I’d make me a dumb supper and call him,” +asserted the Lusk girl with tremulous resolution.</p> +<p>“A dumb supper!” echoed Judith, and then +again, on a different key, “a dumb supper. I +never studied about such as that.”</p> +<p>She brooded a moment on the thought, and +the girls said nothing, watching her breathlessly.</p> +<p>“Do you reckon hit’d do me any good?” she +questioned then, half-heartedly. “Why, dumb +suppers always seemed to me jest happy foolishness +for light-hearted gals that had sweethearts.”</p> +<p>“Oh, no!” disclaimed Pendrilla, joining her +sister on the floor at Judith’s feet. “They ain’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +nothin’ like foolishness about a shore-enough +dumb supper. Why, Judith, Granny Peavey, +our maw’s mother, told us oncet about a dumb +supper that her and two other gals made when +she was but sixteen year old, and her sweetheart +away from her in Virginny, and she didn’t know +whar he was at, an’ they brought her tales agin +him.”</p> +<p>“Well?” prompted Judith feverishly. “Did it +do any good? Did she find out anything?”</p> +<p>“Her and two others went to a desarted house +at midnight—you know that’s the way, Jude.”</p> +<p>Judith nodded impatiently.</p> +<p>“They tuck ’em each some bread an’ salt, an’ a +candle to put the pins in and name. They done +everything backwards—ye have to do everything +backwards at a dumb supper. I don’t know +what happened when the candle burned down to +the other girls’ pins—I forget somehow—but when +the pin Granny had stuck in the candle an’ named +for her lover was melted out and fell, the do’ +opened and in he walked and set down beside +her. They wasn’t a word said betwixt ’em. He +tasted her salt, an’ he et her bread; and then +he was gone like a flash! And at that very same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span> +identical time that thar young man was a-crossin’ +the mountains of Virginny. It drawed him—don’t +you see, Judith?—it drawed him to Granny. +He came back to her, shore enough, three months +after, and they was wedded. He was our grandpap, +Adoniram Peavey—and every word of that’s +true.”</p> +<p>Judith sank lower in her splint-bottomed chair, +looking fixedly above the flaxen heads at her +knees, out through the open door, across the chip +pile, and away to the bannered splendours of the +autumn slopes.</p> +<p>Cliantha laid her head in Judith’s lap and began +to whimper.</p> +<p>“They’s awful things chanced at them thar +dumb suppers,” she shivered. “I hearn tell of +one gal that never had no true-love come, but jest +a big black coffin hopped in at the do’ and bumped +around to her place and stopped ’side of her. My +law, I believe I’d die ef sech as that should chance +whar I was at!”</p> +<p>Judith’s introverted gaze dropped to the girl’s +face.</p> +<p>“I reckon that gal died,” she suggested musingly, +“I don’t know as I’d care much ef the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span> +coffin come for me. Unless—he—was to come, +I’d ruther it would be the coffin. Pendrilly,” +with a sudden upflash of interest, “what is it that +comes? Is it the man hisself—or a ghost?”</p> +<p>“’T ain’t a ghost—a shore-enough ha’nt,” +argued Pendrilla soberly, sitting back on her heels, +“not unless ’n the man’s dead, hit couldn’t be. +Hit wasn’t no ha’nt of Grandpap Peavey—and yet +hit wasn’t grandpap hisself. I reckon it was a +sort of seemin’—jest like a vision in the Bible. +Don’t you, Jude?”</p> +<p>“I ’low,” put in Cliantha doubtfully, “that +if the right feller is close by when he’s called +by a dumb supper, he comes hisself. But ef +he’s away off somewhars that he cain’t git to the +place, then this here seemin’ comes. An’ ef he’s +dead and gone—why you’ll see his ha’nt.”</p> +<p>“They’s jest three of us,” whispered Pendrilla. +“Three is the right number—but I know in my +soul I’d be scared till I wouldn’t be no manner of +use to anybody.”</p> +<p>“Hit’s comin’ close to Hollow Eve,” suggested +Cliantha. “That’s the time to hold a dumb +supper ef one ever should be held. Hit’ll work +then, ef it wouldn’t on no other night of the year.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span></p> +<p>“It has to be held in a desarted house,” Pendrilla +reiterated the condition. “Ef you was to +hold a dumb supper, Jude, we could go to the +old Bonbright house itse’f—ef we had any way +to git in.”</p> +<p>“I’ve got the key,” said Judith scarcely above +her breath. “Creed left it with me away last +April, to get things for the—for the play-party.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXIII_THE_DUMB_SUPPER' id='XXIII_THE_DUMB_SUPPER'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span> +<h2>Chapter XXIII</h2> +<h3>The Dumb Supper</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was the thirty-first of October, All Souls’ +eve, that mystic point of contact between the +worlds when quick and dead are fabled to walk +the ways of earth together, to meet eye to eye, +and hold converse. A web of mountain legend +clings dimly about this season.</p> +<p>The spirit of it—weird, elfin—was abroad, the +air was full of it as, alone out in the gusty darkness +of the autumn night, at eleven o’clock, +Judith walked swiftly toward the Lusk place. +Wrapped in a little packet she carried bread and +salt, and a length of candle. She went across +fields, and thus cut down the distance till it was +possible to walk it in fifteen minutes.</p> +<p>As she approached the house, Speaker, a barely +grown hound-pup, came rollicking out to meet +her, leaping about her shoulder-high, frisking back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span> +toward the porch and waiting for her, all the +while barking joyously.</p> +<p>“My Lord!” said Pendrilla’s sleepy small +voice when Judith tapped on their window in the +wing of the building where the girls roomed. +“Ef that thar fool hound-pup ain’t loose! I hope +he don’t wake up Grandpap. Cain’t you make +him hush, Judith?”</p> +<p>Judith stooped and caressed the dog for a +moment, quieting him. The girls presently appeared +in the doorway fully dressed and, as it +seemed, with their packets made, in addition to +which Cliantha carried an old lantern unlighted +in her hand.</p> +<p>“I’ll light it as soon as we get out in the road,” +she announced whisperingly.</p> +<p>When they would have secured the dog that +he might not follow them, they found that he, +wise for his age, had disappeared.</p> +<p>“I bet he’s run down the road apiece; he’ll +be a-hidin’ in the bushes waitin’ for us,” Cliantha +opined pessimistically. But there was nothing +to be done about it, and they set out, to be +intercepted in just such manner as she foretold.</p> +<p>“I vow, I ain’t so mighty sorry Speaker’s along +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span> +of us,” Pendrilla said after they had vainly browbeaten, +threatened, and stoned the hound to drive +him back through the gate. “He’s a mighty heap +of company and protection out thisaway in the +night.”</p> +<p>“Girls,” said Judith, suddenly halting them all +in the little byroad which they were travelling, +“don’t you think we’d better cut across here? +Hit’ll be a lot nearer.”</p> +<p>“Grandpap’s jest ploughed that thar field to +put in his winter wheat,” objected Pendrilla. +“Hit’ll make mighty bad walkin’.”</p> +<p>“But we’ll get there quicker,” urged Judith +feverishly, and that closed the argument. Between +them the Lusk girls had succeeded in lighting +the old lantern; by its illumination the party +climbed the rail fence, and struggled for some +distance across the loose hillocks of ploughed +ground.</p> +<p>“Hit wouldn’t make such awful walkin’ if it +had been drug,” Cliantha murmured. In the +mountains they hitch a horse to a log or a large +piece of brush and, dragging this over the ploughed +ground, make shift to smooth it without a harrow.</p> +<p>They had hobbled about one third of the toilsome +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span> +way when there came a rush of galloping +hoofs, the girls had barely time to crouch and +cry out, Speaker barked loud, and suddenly half +a dozen young calves ran almost into them.</p> +<p>“Oh landy!” cried Pendrilla. “Ef them thar +calves ain’t broke the fence again! Grandpap +will be so mad—and we don’t darst to tell him that +we know of it.”</p> +<p>“Come on,” urged Judith. “We’ve got to get +over there.”</p> +<p>But it was found when they would have moved +forward that they could not shake off their unwelcome +escort. The calves had been tended +occasionally in the dusk by a man with a lantern, +and they hailed this one as a beacon of hope. +Finally even Judith, desperately impatient to be +gone, agreed that they would have to turn back +and put the meddlesome creatures into their +pasture and lay up the fence before they could +make any progress.</p> +<p>“Hit’ll save time,” she commented briefly, as +though time were the only thing worth considering +now.</p> +<p>At last, one after the other, they climbed the +fence at the side of the Bonbright place. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span> +air was soft, heavy with coming rain. Up through +the weed-grown yard they went, greeted and +beckoned by the odours of Mary Bonbright’s +garden, thyme and southernwood, herbs by the +path-side, clumps of brave chrysanthemums, a +wandering spray or two of late-blooming honeysuckle. +Judith trembled and locked her teeth +together in anguish as she remembered that other +night in the odorous dusk when she and Creed had +stood under these trees and sought in the darkness +for the bush of sweet-scented shrub.</p> +<p>The empty house bulked big and black before +them in the gloom. She took the key from her +pocket and opened the front door, Pendrilla +and Cliantha clinging to her in an ecstasy of +delicious terror. She stepped into the front room, +struck a match, and lighted her candle. It was +half-past eleven by the small nickel alarm-clock +which she carried. Its busy, bustling, modern +tick roused strange, incongruous echoes in the old +house, and reproved their errand.</p> +<p>Speaker made himself at home, coming in +promptly, seeking out the corner he preferred, and +turning around dog-fashion before he lay down +and composed himself to half-waking slumbers. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span></p> +<p>“I reckon in here will be the best place,” +murmured Cliantha, seeking a candlestick from +the mantel for their light. “We could set around +this table.”</p> +<p>“It’s more better ef we-all set on the flo’,” +reminded Pendrilla doubtfully. “Don’t ye ricollect? +all the dumb suppers we ever hearn tell of +was held thataway. Set on the flo’ and put +yo’ bread and salt on the flo’ in front of you.”</p> +<p>“Mebbe that’s becaze they was held in desarted +houses, and most generally desarted houses +don’t have no tables nor chairs in ’em,” Cliantha +speculated.</p> +<p>From the moment the lantern revealed the +room to them, Judith had stood drawn back +against the wall curiously rigid, her hand at her +lip, her over-bright eyes going swiftly from one +remembered object to another. This fleeting +gaze fixed itself at last on the inner door.</p> +<p>“I’ll go in the other room a minute for—for +something,” she whispered finally. “You gals +set here. I’ll be right back. I’ve got two +candles.”</p> +<p>She lighted the second candle, left the girls +arranging the dumb supper, and stole, as though +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span> +some one had called her, into that room which +she had made ready for Creed’s occupancy on the +night of the play-party. It had reverted to its +former estate of dust and neglect. She looked +about her with blank, desolate eyes which finally +found upon the bed a withered brown something +that held her gaze as she crept toward it—the +wreath of red roses!</p> +<p>There it was, the pitiful little lure she had put +forward to Love, the garland she had set in place +to show Creed how fine a housewife she was, how +grandly she would keep his home for him. The +brave red roses, the bold laughing red roses, their +crimson challenge was shrivelled to darkened +shreds, each golden heart was a pinch of black +dust; only the thorny stems remained to show what +queen of blossoms had been there.</p> +<p>She knelt beside the bed, and when the Lusk +girls, frightened at her long absence, crept timidly +in to look for her, they found her strangling +passionate sobs in its white covering.</p> +<p>“It’s most twelve o’clock, Jude,” whimpered +Cliantha.</p> +<p>“Hit’s come on to rain,” supplied Pendrilla +piteously, and a gusty spatter on the small-paned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span> +window confirmed her words, as the three +girls went back into the room where the candle +stood in the middle of the floor with the three +portions of bread and salt about it.</p> +<p>The pale little sisters glanced at each other, +and then at Judith, wistfully, timorously, almost +more in terror of her than of their anomalous +situation, this new, unknown Judith who scarce +answered when she was spoken to, who continually +failed them, who looked so strangely about her +and wept so much.</p> +<p>“Pendrilly an’ me has done put our pins in close +to the bottom,” Cliantha explained deprecatingly. +“Hit wouldn’t do any good to have Andy an’ +Jeff come trompin’ in here—though I shore would +love to see either or both of ’em this minute,” +she concluded forlornly, as they set the door +ajar and the long slanting lines of rain began to +drive obliquely in at the opening.</p> +<p>“Push the candle back whar the draught won’t +git a fair chance at it,” quavered Pendrilla. +“We’re obliged to have the do’ open, or what +comes cain’t git in. An’ we mustn’t ne’er a one +of us say a word from now on, or hit’ll break +the charm.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span></p> +<p>Judith moved the candle and bent to thrust +her pin in, close to the top where the melting +wax might soon free it, concentrating all her soul +in a passionate cry that Creed should come to +her or send her some sign. Then she crouched +on the floor next to Pendrilla and nearest to the +door, and the three waited with pale faces.</p> +<p>The wavering light of the candle, shaken by +gusts which brought puffs of mist in with them, +projected huge, grotesque shadows of the three +heads, and set them dancing upon the walls. The +hound-pup raised his head, cocked his ears +dubiously, and whined under his breath.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” gasped Cliantha. “Didn’t +you-all hear somethin’?”</p> +<p>Judith was staring at the candle flame and +made no reply. Her big dark eyes had the look +of one self-hypnotised.</p> +<p>“Oh, Lordy! Ye ortn’t to talk at a dumb +supper—but I thort I hearn somebody walkin’ +out thar in the rain!” chattered Pendrilla.</p> +<p>The old house creaked and groaned in the +rising autumn storm, as old houses do. The +rain drummed on the roof like fingers tapping. +The wind stripped dry leaves from the bough, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span> +or scooped them up out of the hollows where +they lay, and carried them across the window, or +drove them along the porch, in a gliding, whispering +flight that was infinitely eerie.</p> +<p>In their terror the girls looked to Judith. They +saw that she was not with them. Her gaze was on +the pin in the candle. Back over her heart swept +the sweetness of her first meeting with Creed. She +could see him stand talking to her, the lifted face, +the blue eyes—should she ever see them again?</p> +<p>Then suddenly the flame twisted and bent, the +tallow melted swiftly on one side, and Judith’s +pin fell to the floor.</p> +<p>“Hit’s a-comin’!” hissed Cliantha frantically.</p> +<p>“Oh, Lord! I wish ’t we hadn’t—” Pendrilla +moaned.</p> +<p>The dog uttered a protesting sound between +a growl and a yelp. He raised on his forelegs, +and the hair of his head and neck bristled.</p> +<p>Outside, a heavy stumbling step came up the +walk. It halted at the half-open door. That +door was flung back, and in the square of dripping +darkness stood Creed Bonbright, his face death +white, his eyes wide and fixed, the rain gemming +his uncovered yellow hair. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span></p> +<p>A moment he stood so, and the three stared +at him. Then with a swish of leaves in the wind +and a spatter of rain in their faces, the candle +blew out. The girls screamed and sprang up. +The hound backed into his corner and barked +furiously. Whatever it was, it had crossed the +threshold and was in the room with them.</p> +<p>“Jude—Jude!” shrieked Cliantha. “Run! +Come on, Pendrilly!”</p> +<p>Judith felt a wavering wet hand fumbling toward +her in the darkness. It clasped hers; the arm +went around her; she raised her face, and the cold +lips of the visitant met her warm tremulous ones.</p> +<p>For an instant she had no thought but that +Creed had returned from the dead to claim her—and +she was willing to go. Then she was aware +of a swift rush, as the fleeing girls went past them, +and the patter of the hound’s feet following. +Slowly the newcomer’s weight sagged against her; +he crumpled and went to the floor, dragging her +down in his fall.</p> +<p>“Girls! Clianthy! Pendrilly!” she cried as she +crouched there, clinging to the prostrate form. +“Don’t leave me—it’s Creed himself. You got +to he’p me!”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span> +<img src='images/illus-336.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 320px; height: 478px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 320px;'> +“The door was flung back and in the darkness stood Creed Bonbright.”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>But the girls were gone like frightened hares. +As she got to her feet in the doorway she could +hear the sound of their flying footsteps down the +lane. All was dead still in the room behind her, +yet only an ear as fine as hers could have distinguished +those light, receding footfalls that +finally melted into the far multitudinous whisper +and rustle of the storm.</p> +<p>She turned back in the dark and knelt down +beside him, passing a light, tender hand over his +face and chest. He breathed. He was a living +man.</p> +<p>“Creed,” she whispered loud and desperately. +There was no movement or response.</p> +<p>“Creed,” raising her voice. “O my God! Creed, +darlin’ cain’t you hear me? It’s me. It’s Jude—poor +Jude that loves you so—cain’t you answer +her?”</p> +<p>There came no reply. She lifted the cold hand, +and when she let go of it, it fell. She leaped to +her feet in sudden fear that he might die while +she delayed here. With trembling fingers she +struck a match and lit her candle. Her eye fell +on the two pins the girls had thrust in it and +named for Andy and Jeff. With a swift motion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span> +she plucked them out and threw them on the +floor. She looked from the prostrate figure to the +bed in the corner. No—she couldn’t lift him to +lay him there; but she ran and brought pillows +and covers, raising his head upon the one, lapping +him softly in the other.</p> +<p>When all was done that she could do, there was +the instant need to hurry home for help. She +hated terribly to leave him alone in the dark, +yet a lighted candle with a man so ill was a risk +that she dared not run—he might move about and +set the house on fire. When she closed the darkened +room with its stark figure lying under the +white covers, her heart sank and sank. She must +turn the key upon him. There was no good in +hesitating. Only her strong will, her high courage, +sustained her as she locked the door, and +turning ran, with feet that love and terror winged, +toward her own home. The rain drenched her; +the darkness seemed a thing palpable; she slipped +and fell, got to her feet and ran on. Jephthah +Turrentine, asleep in his own cabin, heard the +sound of beating palms against his door, and a +voice outside in the dark and the rain that cried +upon him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span></p> +<p>“Uncle Jep! Uncle Jep! For God’s sake get +up quick and help me. Creed Bonbright’s come +home to his house, and I think he’s dead or dyin’ +over there.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXIV_A_CASE_OF_WALKING_TYPHOID' id='XXIV_A_CASE_OF_WALKING_TYPHOID'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span> +<h2>Chapter XXIV</h2> +<h3>A Case of Walking Typhoid</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Uh—<i>huh</i>!” said the old man as he straightened +up after a long examination of Creed. “I +thort so. He’s got a case o’ walkin’ typhoid, an’ +looks like he’s been on his feet with it till hit’s +plumb wore him out.”</p> +<p>He stood staring down at the prostrate figure, +which had neither sound nor movement, the +fluttering breath of which seemed scarcely to +stir the chest.</p> +<p>“Walkin’ typhoid,” he repeated. “I’ve met +up with some several in my lifetime. Cur’ous +things. His wound looks to be healed. Reckon +he’s been puny along ever sence he got that +ball in his shoulder, and hit’s ended up in this +here spell of fever.”</p> +<p>“Will he die, Uncle Jep?” whispered Judith, +crouching beside him, her dark eyes roving +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span> +desperately from the still form to her uncle’s +countenance. “What must we do for him?”</p> +<p>“N-no—I reckon he has a chance,” hesitated +Jephthah. Then, glancing at her white, miserable +face, “an’ ef he has, hit’s to git him away from +here an’ into bed right. Lord, I wish ’t the boys +had been home to he’p us out. Well, we’ll have +to do the best we can.”</p> +<p>As he spoke he put the word into action, getting +a length of home-made carpet to put in the bottom +of the waggon before he should lay in the feather-bed +upon which Creed was to rest. As he worked, +despite the look of acute anxiety, the old man’s +eye was brighter, his step was freer, his head was +borne more erect, than Judith had seen it since +the trouble came.</p> +<p>Silent, efficient, careful, experienced, he managed +with her help to lift the unconscious man +into the waggon and place him, his head in +Judith’s lap, for the journey home.</p> +<p>“You mind now, Judy,” he admonished, almost +sternly, “ef he comes to hisse’f you speak to him +mighty quiet and pleasant-like. Don’t you set +to cryin’—don’t you make no fuss. ’Tain’t every +gal I’d trust thisaway. Nothin’ worse for a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span> +sick man than to get him excited.” He took +the lines and drove with infinite care and caution, +walking beside the horse.</p> +<p>But his warning was unnecessary; Creed never +roused from the lethargy in which his senses were +locked. They got him safely home, the old man +undressed him and laid him comfortably in that +big show-bed in the front room that was given to +any guest of honour.</p> +<p>Morning was breaking when Judith, coming into +the kitchen, found Andy and Jeff sitting by the +fire, and Dilsey Rust in charge.</p> +<p>“Yo’ uncle sont fer me,” the old woman said. +“He ’lowed he needed yo’ he’p takin’ keer o’ +Bonbright.”</p> +<p>Judith sat with Creed while the others had +breakfast. When her uncle went out, closing the +door softly behind him, leaving her alone with her +recovered treasure, she went and knelt down by +the bed, and looked at its silent occupant with a +bursting heart.</p> +<p>Here was Creed, Creed for whom she had longed +and prayed. He had come back to her. She +stared at the wasted face, the transparent temples +where the blue veins showed through, the black +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343' name='page_343'></a>343</span> +circles beneath the lashes of the closed eyes. No, +no, this was not Creed, this dying man who +mocked her longing with a semblance of her +lover’s return!</p> +<p>There was a sound at the door. Andy and Jeff +came awkwardly in, and while they all stood +looking, Creed’s eyes opened suddenly upon them. +Andy put out a hand swiftly.</p> +<p>“I’m mighty sorry for—for all that chanced,” +he said huskily.</p> +<p>“So ’m I,” Jeff instantly seconded him.</p> +<p>Creed looked at them both with a little puzzled +drawing of the brows; then the ghost of a smile +flickered across his lips, and his hand that lay on +the covers moved weakly toward theirs.</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” he said, scarcely above a +whisper—the first words he had uttered. “I +told—Aunt Nancy—you were good—boys—” he +faltered to a hesitating close, his eyelids drooped +over the tired eyes; but they flashed open once +more with a smile that included Judith and her +uncle standing back of the two.</p> +<p>“You’re all—mighty—good—to me,” said +Creed Bonbright. And again he sank into that +lethargic sleep. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344' name='page_344'></a>344</span></p> +<p>As the day advanced came the visitors that +are the torment of a sick-room in the country. +It would scarcely have been thought that a bare +land like that could produce so many. Finally +Judith went to her uncle and begged that Creed +be no longer made a show of, and that old Dilsey +set out food in the other room and entertain those +who came, without promising that they should see +the sick man.</p> +<p>“Uh—huh,” agreed Jephthah, understandingly, +“I reckon yo’ about right, Jude. Creed’s obliged +to lay there like a baby an’ sleep ef he’s to have +any chance for his life. I don’t want to fall out +with the neighbours, but we’ll see if we cain’t +make out with less visitin’.”</p> +<p>But this prohibition was not supposed to apply +to Iley Turrentine, a member of the family. +About eight o’clock that morning, having then +for the first time heard of the arrival at the cabin, +she came hurrying across the slope with the baby +on her hip. Long abstinence had made keen +that temper of hers, and here was a situation +where virtue itself cried to arms. She was eager +to give Creed Bonbright a piece of her mind.</p> +<p>“You cain’t go in unless’n you’ll promise to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345' name='page_345'></a>345</span> +plumb quiet—not to open yo’ mouth,” Judith told +her sharply. “Uncle Jep ain’t here right now—but +that’s what he said.”</p> +<p>“Don’t Bonbright know folks? Cain’t a body +talk to him? Is he plumb outen his head?” +demanded Iley, somewhat taken aback.</p> +<p>“He knew some of us a while ago,” admitted +Judith, “but mostly he doesn’t notice nothing—jest +stares right in front of him, and Uncle Jep +said we mustn’t let him be talked to nor werried.”</p> +<p>The big red-headed woman, considerably lowered +in note, stepped inside the door of the sick-room, +hushing the child in her arms. A moment +she stood staring at the bed and its single occupant, +at the pale face on the pillow, then she +burst suddenly into tempestuous sobs and fled.</p> +<p>Judith followed her out.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Iley? You never set +much store by Creed Bonbright—what you cryin’ +about?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Hit’s—Huldy,” choked the sister. “I reckon +you thort I talked mighty big about the business +the last time you an’ me had speech consarnin’ +hit; but the facts air that I don’t know a thing +about whar she’s at, nor how she’s doin’. Judy, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346' name='page_346'></a>346</span> +ef yo’ a-goin’ to take keer o’ the man, cain’t +ye please ax him for me when did he see Huldy +last, an’—an’ is they wedded?”</p> +<p>Judith assented. She knew what her uncle +would think of such an inquiry being put to the +sick man, yet her own heart so fiercely demanded +knowledge on this point that she promised Iley +she would ask the question as soon as she +dared.</p> +<p>The week that followed was a strange one to +active Judith Barrier, used to out-door life under +the sky for such a large part of her days. Now +those same days were bounded by the four walls +of a sick-room, the sole matter of importance in +them whether the invalid took his gruel well, +whether he had seemed better, whether her uncle +spoke encouragingly of the eventful outcome of +this illness. Old Jephthah himself nursed Creed, +and Judith was but a helper; yet, such was her +torture of uncertainty, of anxiety, that she often +left to go to her own room and get some sleep, +only to return and beg that she might be allowed +to sit outside the threshold for the rest of the night +and be ready if she were needed.</p> +<p>“Ain’t no use wearin’ yourself out thataway,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347' name='page_347'></a>347</span> +her uncle used to say kindly. “That won’t do +Creed no good, nor you neither. I wish to the +Lord I had Nancy here to he’p me!”</p> +<p>For in this day of real need he dropped all banter +about Nancy’s value in sick-room practice, and +longed openly for her assistance. Creed had +been in the house nearly a week and was showing +marked improvement, when Judith got a message +from Blatch Turrentine—Would she be at the +draw-bars ’long about sundown? He had something +to tell her.</p> +<p>She paid no attention to the request, but it +put her in mind to do finally what she had long +contemplated—write to her cousin Wade. It was +but a short scrawl, stating that Creed Bonbright +was sick at their house, and not able to tell them +anything concerning Huldah, and that Iley and +the others were troubled. Would Wade please +ask information in Hepzibah, and write to his +affectionate cousin.</p> +<p>Every day Iley made a practice of coming up +and sitting dejectedly in the kitchen till Judith +entered the room, when she would draw her +mysteriously to one side and say:</p> +<p>“Have ye axed him yet? What did he tell ye? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348' name='page_348'></a>348</span> +I’m plumb wo’ out and heart-broke’ about it, +Jude.”</p> +<p>Though Judith realised fully just how much +of this display proceeded from a desire on Iley’s +part for notice, yet her own passionate, rebellious +heart seconded the idle woman, and allowed the +continual harping on that string to finally drive +her to the set determination that, as soon as +Creed could talk to her at all, she would ask him +about Huldah.</p> +<p>Had she lacked resolution, the patient himself +would have supplied and hardened it. About +this time he developed a singular form of low +delirium in which he would lie with closed eyes, +murmuring—murmuring—murmuring to himself +in a hurried, excited whisper. And always the +burden of his distress was:</p> +<p>“I must get to her. Where is she? It’s a +long ways. Oh, I’ve got to get to her—there’s +nobody else.”</p> +<p>Kneeling by his bed, her burning gaze upon +his shut eyes and moving lips, Judith racked +her soul with questioning. Often she heard her +own name in those fevered whisperings; once he +said with sudden determination, “I’m going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349' name='page_349'></a>349</span> +home.” But she listened in vain for mention of +Huldah.</p> +<p>And what might that mean? All that she +hoped? Or all that she dreaded? Oh, she could +not bear this; she must know; she must—must—must +ask him.</p> +<p>The Evil One, having provided the counsel, was +not slow in following it up with the necessary +opportunity. Judith was sitting with Creed +alone, on a Wednesday night—he had come to +them the preceding Tuesday. Her uncle being +worn out had planned to sleep till midnight, thus +dividing the watch with her. About eleven +o’clock Creed opened his eyes and asked in what +seemed to her a fairly natural tone for a drink. +She brought it to him, and when he had drank he +began speaking very softly.</p> +<p>“I’m glad I came back to the mountains,” he +said in a weak, whispering voice. “I promised +you I’d come, and I did come, Judith.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered Judith, putting down the +glass and seating herself at the bedside, taking +his hand and stroking it softly, studying his face +with intent, questioning eyes. “You know where +you are now, don’t you, Creed?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350' name='page_350'></a>350</span></p> +<p>He smiled at her.</p> +<p>“I’m in the front room at your house where +we-all danced the night of the play-party,” he +said. “I loved you that night, Judith—only +I hadn’t quite found out about it.”</p> +<p>The statement was made with the simplicity +of a child—or of a sick man. It went over +Judith with a sudden, sweet shock. Then her +jealous heart must know that it was really all hers. +Nerve racked as only a creature of the open can +be after weeks of confinement in a sick-room, +torn with the possessive passion of her earth-born +temperament, she stood up suddenly and asked +him in a voice of pain that sounded harsh and +menacing,</p> +<p>“Creed, whar’s Huldy?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” returned Creed tremulously. +The blue eyes in their great hollows came up to +her face in a frightened gaze. Instantly they lost +their clearness; they clouded and filmed with that +look of confusion which had been in them from +the first.</p> +<p>“You’re married to her—ain’t you?” choked +Judith, horrified at what she had done, loathing +herself for it, yet pushed on to do more. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351' name='page_351'></a>351</span></p> +<p>“Yes,” whispered Creed miserably. “Sit down +by me again, Judith. Don’t be mad. What are +you mad about? I forget—there was awful +trouble, and somebody was shot—oh, how they +all hate me!”</p> +<p>The fluttering moment of normal conditions +was gone. The baffled, confused eyes closed; the +thin hands began to fumble piteously about the +covers; the pale lips resumed their rapid motion, +while from between them flowed the old, swift +stream of broken whispers.</p> +<p>Judith had quenched the first feeble flame of +intelligence that flickered up toward her. She +remained a moment staring down at her handiwork, +then covered her face, and burst out crying. +An ungentle grasp descended upon her shoulder. +Her uncle, standing tall and angry behind her, +thrust her from the room.</p> +<p>“Thar now!” he said with carefully repressed +violence, lest his tones should disturb the sick +man. “You’ve raised up a pretty interruption +with my patient. I ’lowed I could trust you, +Jude. What in the world you fussin’ with Creed +about? For God’s sake, did you see him? You’ve +nigh-about killed him, I reckon. Didn’t I tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352' name='page_352'></a>352</span> +you not to name anything to him to werry +him?”</p> +<p>“He says he’s married Huldy,” said Judith +in a strangled voice.</p> +<p>“Say! He’d say anything—like he is now,” +retorted her uncle, exasperated. “An’ he’d shore +say anything on earth that was put in his mouth. +I don’t care if he’s married forty Huldy’s; what +I want is for him to get well. Lord, I do wish +I had Nancy here, and not one of these fool young +gals with their courtin’ business and their gettin’ +jealous and having to have a rippit with a sick +man that don’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” +he went on savagely.</p> +<p>But high-spirited Judith paid no attention to +the cutting arraignment.</p> +<p>“Do you think that’s true—oh, Uncle Jep, do +you reckon he didn’t mean it?” was all she said.</p> +<p>“I don’t see as it makes any differ,” retorted +her uncle, testily. “Marryin’ Huldy Spiller ain’t +no hangin’ matter—but hit’ll cost that boy his +life ef you fuss with him and git him excited and +all worked up.”</p> +<p>Judith turned and felt her way blindly up the +steep little stair to her own room. That night +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353' name='page_353'></a>353</span> +she prayed, not in a formulated fashion, but to +some vague, over-brooding goodness that she hoped +would save her from cruelty to him she loved.</p> +<p>The next morning Creed was plainly set back +in his progress toward sound rationality, though +there seemed little physical change. He recognised +no one, and was much as he had been on +those first days. While this condition of affairs +held, and it lasted nearly a week, there was no +need for Jephthah to repeat his caution. But one +morning when Judith went in to relieve her uncle, +Creed smiled at her again with eyes that knew.</p> +<p>As soon as they were alone together, he asked +her to come and sit by him, and told her with +tolerable clearness how he had followed Blatch +Turrentine onto the train at Garyville, how he +had fainted there, and only recovered consciousness +when they were halfway to the next station.</p> +<p>“I was too bad off for them to leave me anywhere, +and they carried me plumb to Atlanta. +I was in the hospital there a long while. Looks +like I might have written to you—but I thought +the best I could do was to let you alone—I’d +made you trouble enough,” he ended with a +wistful, half-hopeful glance at her face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354' name='page_354'></a>354</span></p> +<p>Judith, taught by bitter experience, tried to +meet this with the gentle, reassuring cheerfulness +of the nurse. It was all right. He mustn’t talk +too much. He was here now. They didn’t +need any letter. But strive as she might she +could not keep out of her voice a certain alien +tone; and afterward the bitter thought dogged +her that he had told her nothing definite. She +knew nothing, after all, about his relations with +Huldah; the girl might even, as Blatch declared, +have been on the train, and gone to Atlanta with +him, and he have held back this information.</p> +<p>Perhaps, considering her temperament, Judith +did as well as could have been expected in the +three days that followed—days in which Creed +seemed to make fair physical gain, but to grow +worse and worse mentally. Never once did she +put into words the query that ate into her very +soul, quite innocent of the fact that it spoke in +every tone of her voice, in every movement of her +head or hand, and kept the ailing mind to which +she ministered at tremble with the strain to +answer.</p> +<p>On the fourth day, fretted past endurance +by the situation, Judith permitted herself some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355' name='page_355'></a>355</span> +oblique hints and suggestions, on the heels of +which she left to prepare his breakfast. Returning +to the sick-room with the bowl of broth, she +met the strange, unexpected, unsolicited reply to +all these withheld demands. Creed greeted her +with a half-terrified smile.</p> +<p>“Did you meet her goin’ out?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Did I meet who, Creed?” inquired Judith, +setting the bowl down on a splint-bottomed +chair, spreading a clean towel across the quilts, +and preparing for his breakfast. “Has there +been somebody in here to see you a’ready?”</p> +<p>“It was only Huldah,” deprecated Creed. +“You said—you asked—and she just slipped in +a minute after you went out.”</p> +<p>Judith straightened up with so sudden a movement +that the chair rocked and the contents of +the bowl slopped dangerously.</p> +<p>“Which way did she go?” came the sharp +challenge.</p> +<p>“Out that door,” indicating with an air of +childlike alarm the front way which led directly +into the yard.</p> +<p>Judith ran and flung it open. Nobody was +in sight. Heedless of the sharp wintry air that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356' name='page_356'></a>356</span> +blew in upon the patient, she stood searching +the way over toward Jim Cal’s cabin.</p> +<p>“I don’t see her,” she called across her shoulder. +“Mebbe she’s in the house yet.”</p> +<p>She closed the door reluctantly and came back +to the bedside.</p> +<p>“No,” said Creed plaintively, lifting a doubtful +hand to his confused head, “she ain’t here. She +allowed you-all were mad at her, and I reckon +she’ll keep out of sight.”</p> +<p>“But she had to come to see you—her wedded +husband,” accused Judith sternly.</p> +<p>He nodded mutely with a motion of assent. +He seemed to hope that the admission would +please Judith. The broth stood untouched, +cooling on the chair.</p> +<p>“Is she stayin’ down at Jim Cal’s?” came +Judith’s next question.</p> +<p>“She never named it to me where she was +stayin’,” returned Creed wearily. As before, +Judith’s ill-concealed anger and hostility was as +a sword of destruction to him; yet now he had +more strength to endure with. “She just come—and +now she’s gone.” He closed his eyes, and +leaned his head back among his pillows. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357' name='page_357'></a>357</span> +white face looked so sunken that Judith’s heart +misgave her.</p> +<p>“Won’t you eat your breakfast now, Mr. Bonbright?” +she said stiffly.</p> +<p>“I don’t want any breakfast, thank you. I +can’t eat,” returned Creed very low.</p> +<p>Judith pressed her lips hard together to refrain +from mentioning Huldah again. She knew that she +had injured Creed, yet for the life of her she could +not get out one word of kindness. Finally she +took her mending and sat down within sight of the +bed, deceiving herself into the belief that he slept.</p> +<p>The next day an almost identical scene pushed +Judith’s strained nerves to the verge of hysteria. +In the afternoon when the old man came to +relieve her he returned almost immediately from +the sick-room, called her downstairs once more, +and complained of Creed’s progress.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Look like +somethin’ has went wrong here right lately. +Ever sence you got that fool notion in yo’ head +that Creed and Huldy was man and wife, he’s +been goin’ down in his mind about as fast as his +stren’th come up. The best thing you can do +is to put it out of yo’ head.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358' name='page_358'></a>358</span></p> +<p>“Well, they <i>air</i> wedded,” returned Judith +passionately. “They ain’t no use to fergit it, +’caze she’s done been here—she’s down at Jim +Cal’s right now; and when we-all are out of the +room he says she slips in to visit him.”</p> +<p>The girl stood trembling; her rounded cheeks +that used to blush with such glowing crimson were +white; she was a figure to move any one who +loved her to pity; but the old man regarded her +with strong contempt.</p> +<p>“Good Lord—is <i>that</i> what’s ailin’ ye?” he +burst out. “You might at least have had the +sense you was born with, and asked somebody +is Huldy here. You know in reason it shows that +Creed’s out of his head—when he tells you a tale +like that. The Lord knows there’s no fool in the +world like a jealous woman. Do ye want to kill +the boy?—or run him crazy?”</p> +<p>Judith struggled with her tears.</p> +<p>“Uncle Jep,” she finally choked out without +actually sobbing. “I won’t say another word—now +that I know. I ain’t got nothin’ agin’ Creed +Bonbright, nor his wife—why should I have?”</p> +<p>Some ruth came into the scornful glance those +old black eyes bent on her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359' name='page_359'></a>359</span></p> +<p>“You’re a good gal, Jude,” Jephthah said +softly, “ef ye air somethin’ unusual of a fool in +this business. But I reckon I got to take this +boy out o’ yo’ hands someway. I’m obliged +to leave Creed with ye for one short while—an’ +agin’ my grain it goes to do it—an’ go fetch him +a nurse that won’t take these tantrums. But +mind, gal, it’s Creed’s reason I’m leavin’ with +you; mebbe his life—but sartain shore his reason. +I won’t be gone to exceed two days. Ye can hold +out that long, cain’t ye?”</p> +<p>“I’ll do the best I can, Uncle Jep,” said +Judith with unexpected mildness. “An’ ef +Huldy ’s here——”</p> +<p>“My Lord!” broke in Jephthah. “Why don’t +ye go to Iley an’ set yo’ mind at rest about Huldy?”</p> +<p>“Hit is at rest,” returned Judith darkly. +“When Creed come here, Iley was at me every +day to ask him whar was Huldy; but I take notice +that sence that day he named Huldy visitin’ him +Iley ain’t been a-nigh the place.”</p> +<p>The old man heaved a heavy sigh.</p> +<p>“Well, ye say ye’ll do yo’ best? Hit’s apt +to be a good best, Jude. In two days, ef I live, +I’ll be back here, an’ I’ll bring he’p.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXV_A_PERILOUS_PASSAGE' id='XXV_A_PERILOUS_PASSAGE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360' name='page_360'></a>360</span> +<h2>Chapter XXV</h2> +<h3>A Perilous Passage</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was a strange thing to Judith to be left alone +in the house, in charge of it and the sick man. +Old Dilsey did the cooking and all the domestic +labour. Had Wade been at home, and the patient +any other than Creed Bonbright, she would +have had a capable assistant at the nursing. +Andy and Jeff tried to be as kind as they could. +But they were an untamed, untrained pair, helpless +and hapless at such matters, and their approaching +wedding kept them often over at the +Lusk place. From Iley Judith held savagely +aloof.</p> +<p>It was on the second morning of her uncle’s +absence that Dilsey Rust brought again that +message from Blatch, and Judith caught at it. +She had done her best; she had refrained from +any questions; but the night before Creed told +her without asking that Huldah had been in to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361' name='page_361'></a>361</span> +see him twice again. As her patient’s physical +strength notably increased, his appeal to her +tender forbearance of course lessened, and the +raw insult of the situation began to come home +to her.</p> +<p>She put a shawl over her head and ran swiftly +down through the chill November weather to the +draw-bars, where in the big road outside Turrentine +slouched against a post waiting for her. +The man spoke over his shoulder.</p> +<p>“Howdy, Jude—you did come at last.”</p> +<p>“Ef yo’ goin’ to say anything to me, you’ll have +to be mighty quick, Blatch,” she notified him, +shivering. “I got to get right back.”</p> +<p>“They’s somebody new—and yet not so new—a-visitin’ +in the Turkey Tracks that you’d like +to know of,” he prompted coolly. “Ain’t that +so?”</p> +<p>“Huldy,” she gasped, her dark eyes fixed upon +his grey ones.</p> +<p>He nodded.</p> +<p>“I ’lowed you’d take an intrust in that thar +business, an’ I thort as a friend you ort to be told +of it,” he added virtuously.</p> +<p>“Where’s she at?” demanded Judith. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362' name='page_362'></a>362</span></p> +<p>“Over at my house,” announced Turrentine +easily, with a backward jerk of his head.</p> +<p>“At <i>yo’</i> house!” echoed Judith; “at <i>yo’</i> house! +Why, hit ain’t decent.”</p> +<p>“Huh,” laughed Blatch. “I don’t know about +decent. She was out thar takin’ the rain; she +had nobody to roof her; an’ I bid her in, ’caze I’m +in somewhat the same fix myse’f.”</p> +<p>“No one to roof her,” repeated Judith. +“What’s henderin’ her from comin’ over this +side the Gulch?”</p> +<p>“Well, seein’ the way she’s done Wade I +reckon she ’lows she’d better keep away from +his pap’s house. She’s at the outs with Iley—Jim +Cal’s lady sont her word she needn’t never +show her face thar agin. She gives it out to +everybody that’ll listen at her talk that she’s +skeered o’ you ’count o’ Bonbright.”</p> +<p>Judith studied his face with half-incredulous +eyes.</p> +<p>“How long has she been there?” she interrogated +keenly.</p> +<p>Turrentine seemed to take time for reflection.</p> +<p>“Lemme see,” he ruminated, “she come a +Wednesday night. Hit was rainin’, ef you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363' name='page_363'></a>363</span> +remember, an’ I hearn something outside, and it +scairt me up some, fer fear it was revenuers. +When I found hit was Huldy, I let her in, an +she’s been thar ever sence.”</p> +<p>Wednesday night! It was Thursday morning +that Creed had first announced the visit of his wife. +Oh, it must be true! Judith trembled all through +her vigorous young body with a fury of despair. +As always, Blatchley had found the few and +simple words to bid her worser angel forth. She +even felt a kind of hateful relish for the quarrel. +They had tricked her. They had made a fool of +her. She had suffered so much. She longed to +be avenged.</p> +<p>“Judy,” murmured Blatch softly, bending +toward her but not laying a hand upon her, “you +white as a piece o’ paper, an’ shakin’ from head to +foot. That’s from stayin’ shet up in the house +yonder nussin’ that feller Bonbright night an’ +day like a hirelin’. W’y, he never did care nothin’ +for ye only becaze ye was useful to him. Ye +stood betwixt him an’ danger; ye he’ped him out +when he needed it wust. An’ he had it in mind +to fool ye from the first. Now him and Huldy +Spiller has done it. Don’t you let ’em. You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364' name='page_364'></a>364</span> +show ’em what you air. I’ve got a hoss out +thar, and Selim’s down in the stable. I’ll put +yo’ saddle on him. Git yo’ skirt, honey. Let’s +you and me ride over to Squire Gaylord’s and +be wedded. Then we’ll have the laugh on these +here smart folks that tries to fool people.”</p> +<p>He leaned toward her, all the power of the man +concentrated in his gaze. Perhaps he had never +wanted anything in his twenty-seven years as +he now wanted Judith Barrier and her farm and +the rehabilitation that a union with her would +give him. Once this girl’s husband, he could +curtly refuse to rent to Jephthah Turrentine, +who had, he knew, no lease. He could call into +question the old man’s stewardship, and even up +the short, bitter score between them. He could +reverse that scene when he was sent packing and +told to keep his foot off the place.</p> +<p>“Judy,” he breathed, deeply moved by all this, +“don’t ye remember when we was—befo’ ever +this feller come—Why, in them days I used to +think shore we’d be wedded.”</p> +<p>Judith rested a hand on the bars and, lips apart, +stared back into the eager eyes of the man who +addressed her. Blatchley had always had some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365' name='page_365'></a>365</span> +charm for the girl. Power he did not lack; and +his lawlessness, his license, which might have +daunted a feebler woman, liberated something +correspondingly brave and audacious in her. He +had been the first to pay court to her, and a girl +does not easily forget that.</p> +<p>For a moment the balance swung even. Then +it bore down to Blatch’s side. She would go. +Yes, she would. Creed might have Huldah. +The girl might be his wife, or his widow. She, +Judith Barrier, would show them—she would show +them. Her parted lips began to shape to a +reckless yes. The word waited in her mind +behind those lips all formed. Her swift imagination +pictured to her herself riding away beside +Blatch leaving the sick man who had been cause +of so many humiliations to her to die or get well. +Blatch, watching narrowly, read the coming consent +in her face. His hand stole forward toward +the draw-bars.</p> +<p>Her salvation was in a very small and commonplace +thing. The picture of herself riding beside +Blatch Turrentine brought back to her, with an +awakening shock, the recollection of herself and +Creed riding side by side, her arm across his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366' name='page_366'></a>366</span> +shoulder, his drooping head against it. How +purely happy she had been then—how innocent—how +blest! What were these fires of torment that +raged in her now? No, no! That might be lost +to her; but even so, she could not decline from its +dear memory to a mating like this. Without a +word she turned and ran back to the house, never +looking over her shoulder in response to the one +or two cautious calls that Blatch sent after her.</p> +<p>Judith’s day was mercifully full of work. When +Creed did not require her, Dilsey demanded help +and direction, and one or two errands from outside +kept her mind from sinking in upon itself. +It was night-fall, Andy was lending her his awkward +aid in the sick-room, when Jeff came in and +beckoned the two of them out mysteriously.</p> +<p>“How’s Bonbright this evenin’, Jude? Do +you reckon I could have speech with him?” he +asked in a troubled tone.</p> +<p>Judith shook her head. Her own near approach +to absolute failure in her charge that morning +made her the more punctilious now.</p> +<p>“No.” She spoke positively. “Uncle Jep +said he wasn’t to be werried about anything.”</p> +<p>“Why, he’s settin’ up some, ain’t he?” said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367' name='page_367'></a>367</span> +the boy in surprise. “I thort he looked right +peart.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” agreed Judith dejectedly, “he’s gettin’ +his strength all right; he does look well. But you +ax him questions, or name anything to him to +trouble him, an’ it throws him right back. Uncle +Jep says hit’s more his mind than his body now. +What is it ye want from Creed? Cain’t I tend +to it?”</p> +<p>“I don’t reckon a gal like you could he’p any,” +Jeff said doubtfully. His eye wandered toward +his twin. “I reckon this is men’s business. +I’ve got word that Huldy Spiller—or some say +Huldy Bonbright—is over at Blatch’s cabin, and +he’s got her shut up.”</p> +<p>Judith’s heart gave a great leap as of terror; +the thing was out at last—people knew it. Then +that heavily beating heart sank sickeningly; what +difference to her, though all the world knew it? +Yet she held to her trust.</p> +<p>“Oh, shore not, Jeff. You cain’t <i>nigh</i> talk to +him about nothin’ like that,” she maintained. +“Uncle Jep made me promise that nothin’ should +be named to him to excite him.”</p> +<p>“Well, then,” pursued Jeff, “pappy not bein’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368' name='page_368'></a>368</span> +here, nor Wade, and Jim Cal over at Spiller’s, +an’ the gal not havin’ no men folks in reach, me +an’ Andy has got to look after this thing. Fact +is, Blatch sent word that ef we wanted her we +could come over and git her.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know as we do want her—I don’t know +as we do,” put in Andy. “And we both promised +pappy that we wouldn’t set foot on the land +whilst Blatch had it rented.”</p> +<p>“Then ag’in,” debated Jeff—“Oh, no, buddy, +we cain’t leave the gal thar. We’re plumb obliged +to find out if she wants to come away, anyhow.”</p> +<p>Andy turned to his cousin.</p> +<p>“What do you say, Jude? Ort we to go?”</p> +<p>Judith locked her hands hard together and +held down her head, fighting out her battle. +She longed to say no. She longed to shout out +that Huldah Spiller might take care of herself, +since she had been so unwomanly as to run after +men and bring all this trouble on them. What +she did say, at the end of a lengthened struggle, +was:</p> +<p>“Yes, I think both of you ort to go. Can it be +did quiet? You got to think of her good name.”</p> +<p>Jeff nodded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369' name='page_369'></a>369</span></p> +<p>“Well, how air we goin’ to be sure that gal’s +over there?” inquired Andy, still half reluctant.</p> +<p>“Oh, she’s there,” returned Judith heavily; and +when the boys regarded her with startled looks, +“I ain’t seen her, but she’s been on the mountain +since Thursday. She’s been slippin’ over to +visit—her—Creed named it to me then.”</p> +<p>“Well that does settle it,” Andy concluded. +“Reckon Blatch has shut her up for pure meanness. +When was we to go? Was there any time +sot?”</p> +<p>“To-night,” Jeff informed them. “Any time +after ten o’clock’ll do—that was the word I got.”</p> +<p>“Well, that’ll be all right,” agreed Andy; +“I can fix Creed up for the night, and ef we git +Huldy away in the dark nobody need know of +the business—not even Bonbright.”</p> +<p>A slow flush rose in Judith’s pale cheeks. But +she offered no comment on this aspect of the case. +She only said:</p> +<p>“Just do what you think best, and don’t name +it to me again, please.” Then, as both boys +looked wonderingly at her, she added haltingly, +“I’ve got enough to werry over—with a sick +man here on my hands, an’ Uncle Jep gone.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370' name='page_370'></a>370</span></p> +<p>She went to her room. When at midnight she +slipped down as of custom to see how all fared in +the sick-room, she found the patient sleeping +quietly, and Andy ready for the trip across the +Gulch. The boys were going unarmed; they felt +no fear of treachery on Blatch’s part—it could +profit him nothing to injure either of them in so +public a way, and indeed he had never shown +them any ill-will.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXVI_HIS_OWN_TRAP' id='XXVI_HIS_OWN_TRAP'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371' name='page_371'></a>371</span> +<h2>Chapter XXVI</h2> +<h3>His Own Trap</h3> +</div> + +<p>“I reckon that’ll about do for you, my pretty +young men,” remarked Blatchley Turrentine +as he put the last knot in the line with which he +was securing Andy to a splint-bottomed chair.</p> +<p>His concluding words were the refrain of a +familiar old ballad, and he continued to hum this +as he straightened up and set his hands on his +hips, regarding the twins through wickedly +narrowed eyes. He was flushed with drink and +inclined, as always at such times, to swagger with +a sort of savage playfulness.</p> +<p>“Scalf, you ain’t got yo’ feller half tied,” he +broke out, jerking the cord around Jeff. “Why, +Lord A’mighty! I could pull myse’f a-loose from +that mess o’ rope inside o’ five minutes,” and he +set to work to make his cousin secure.</p> +<p>“Do yo’ own dirty work,” growled Scalf. “Yo’ +the only one that’s a-goin’ to profit by it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372' name='page_372'></a>372</span></p> +<p>It was after midnight. When the two boys had +approached Blatch’s cabin as agreed, they had +been set upon from behind, pinioned, and taken to +the cave where the still was. Here they now sat +bound and helpless.</p> +<p>“What do you aim to make out of it, Blatch?” +asked Jeff, offering the first remark that had come +from either of them since their capture.</p> +<p>“Is—uh—” Andy glanced at Scalf, and strove +to keep Huldah’s name out of it—“is what we +come for here yet?”</p> +<p>Blatch burst into a great horse laugh and +slapped his thigh.</p> +<p>“What you come after,” he repeated enjoyingly. +“Lord—Lord! What you come after! +You was easy got. I counted on Jude to set +you on, and I see I never counted none too +much.”</p> +<p>“What do you aim to make out of it?” persisted +Andy.</p> +<p>The light from the fire built at the back of the +cave, whose smoke went up a cleft and entered +the chimney of the cabin far above, illuminated +the dark interior flickeringly. Blatch went to a +jug on a shelf, noisily poured a drink into a tin +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373' name='page_373'></a>373</span> +cup, swallowed it, and then addressed himself +to his cousins.</p> +<p>“Yo’ pappy ordered me off his land. My +lease is up next month. I got to git out of here +anyhow, and I aimed to raise a stir befo’ I went. +This here town podner what I got after you-all +quit me,” glancing negligently at Scalf, “has +many a little frill to his plans, and he knows Dan +Haley, the marshal, right well. Sometimes I +misdoubt that he come up on Turkey Track to +git in with me and git the reward that I’m told +Haley has out for the feller that can ketch me +stillin’.”</p> +<p>He wheeled and looked fully at Scalf with these +words, and the town man made haste to turn +his back, warming his hands at the blaze. Blatch +laughed deep in his throat.</p> +<p>“Scalf’s on the make,” he asserted with grim +humour. “He needed somebody to give up to +Dan Haley, and as I hain’t got no likin’ for +learnin’ to peg shoes in the penitentiary, I ’lowed +mebbe the trade would suit you-all boys, an’ I +sont over for ye.”</p> +<p>The twins writhed in their chairs as much as +their tight bandings would permit. How simple +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374' name='page_374'></a>374</span> +they had been to trust the mercy of a desperate +man. And they knew Blatch Turrentine. In +days past, they had been on the inside, pupils +and assistants in such work as this. They stole +sheepish looks at each other. But the message +he had sent them was yet to be explained. If +Huldah was not with him, how had he known she +was on the mountain at all?</p> +<p>“What made you send the word you did?” +burst out Andy wrathfully.</p> +<p>Blatch had moved over by the fire.</p> +<p>“Oh, I hearn through old Dilsey Rust—that +I’ve had a-listenin’ at key-holes and spyin’ +through chinks—about Bonbright’s talk concernin’ +Huldy, and I thort——”</p> +<p>At these words ancient Gideon Rust, posted +as sentinel outside the cave’s entrance, keeping +himself warily from view of the prisoners, craned +forward and stared with fallen jaw, reckless +of observation. Humble tenants, pensioners of +Judith and the Turrentines, with these words +Blatch had wantonly stripped the poor roof from +above their grey heads, and turned them out +defenceless, to the anger of that strong family. +Come what would, he must protest. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375' name='page_375'></a>375</span></p> +<p>“Now Blatch,” he whined, “you ort not to +go a-namin’ names like you do. You said that +Dilsey nor me, nary one, needn’t be known in +this business.”</p> +<p>In his excitement he came fully into the light.</p> +<p>“I hope you-all boys understand that I didn’t +aim to do ye a meanness. Yo’ pap—I—I hope +he won’t hold this agin’ us. The Turrentines has +been mighty good friends to Dilsey—and here’s +Blatch lettin’ on to ’em like she was a spy.”</p> +<p>“Well, what else is she?” asked Blatch with an +oath. “What else are any of ye? The last one +of ye would sell yo’ own fathers and mothers. +Don’t I know ye? A man’s only chance is to +get ye scared of him, or give ye somebody else +to tell tales on—and that’s what I’ve done.”</p> +<p>He turned his attention once more to Andy +and Jeff, and left the old man staring aghast, +plucking at his beard.</p> +<p>“I’ve bought me a good team, an’ I’m goin’ +to move my plunder out of here,” he told them. +“I’ve done picked me a fine place over yon,” jerking +his head vaguely in the direction of the Far +Cove. “Every stick and ravellin’ that belongs +to me I’ll take, exceptin’ the run of whiskey that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_376' name='page_376'></a>376</span> +I’ll leave in the still here for to make the marshal +shore he’s got the right thing. You might +expect him any time to-morrow. Old Gid here +will lead him in, or Scalf, and the testimony +they stand ready to give means penitentiary to +you two.”</p> +<p>“I reckon you-all won’t deny that you have +made many a run of blockaded whiskey right +here in this cave,” put in Scalf, nervously.</p> +<p>“That’s so—that’s so, boys, I’ve seed ye +many a time,” whimpered Gideon Rust, almost +beside himself with terror. “I hope ye won’t +hold it ag’in us that we he’ped to have ye took +instead of Blatch here. Blatch is a hard man +to deal with—he’s been too much fer me—and hit +wouldn’t do you all no manner of good ef he +was took along with ye. I don’t see that yo’ +any worse off ef he goes free.”</p> +<p>The twins looked at each other and forebore +to reply. Blatch moved over to Scalf, and after +some muttered parley with the town partner +strode away into the dark. Scalf himself waited +only long enough to be sure that Blatch had left, +then slipped away, posting the old man down the +path as lookout. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_377' name='page_377'></a>377</span></p> +<p>Alone in the cave, it was long before either boy +spoke. Then came a rush of angry comment +and bitter reflection which interrogated the situation +from all sides, tending always to the conclusion +that it was mighty hard, when a man had +given up his evil courses, when he had just joined +the church and was about to get married, to have +the whole ugly score to pay. They sat cramped +and miserable in their splint-bottomed chairs and +the hours wore away till dawn in this dismal +converse. Pappy was right—he was mighty right. +If they ever got out of this—But there, Blatch +wasn’t apt to make a failure.</p> +<p>It was broad daylight when at last Blatch +Turrentine brought his team up and as close to +the cave’s mouth as he dared. It was loaded +already with a considerable amount of furniture +and clothing from the cabin, and he climbed down +the steep approach to take from the cave the +jugged whiskey, and the keg or two which was +aging there. His eyes were reddened; but the +dark flush which had been on his face had now +given place to a curious pallor. There was a new +element in his mood, a different note in his bearing, +a suggestion of furtive hurry and anxiety. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_378' name='page_378'></a>378</span></p> +<p>He was not afraid of the marshal. Haley could +not be on the mountain before noon. But he had +left that behind in the little log stable from which +his team came that cried haste to his going.</p> +<p>Gord Bosang from whom he was to buy the +horses was a man somewhat of Blatch’s own ilk. +Cavalierly called out of bed after midnight and +offered only a partial cash payment—all that +Blatch had been able to raise—he had angrily +refused to let the team be taken off the place. +Turrentine’s situation was desperate. He must +have the horses. In the quarrel that followed, +he struck to clear this obstacle from his path; but +whether he had left a dead man lying back there +on the hay—whether it was a possible charge of +murder he was now fleeing from—he had not +stopped to find out. He had got back to his cabin +with all haste, pitched his ready belongings into the +wagon, and now he came down to the still to get +the last, and see that all there was working out +right.</p> +<p>As his foot reached the opening he uttered a +loud exclamation, then leaped into the cave. +Both chairs were empty, the ropes lying cut beside +them. He sprang back to the rude doorway and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_379' name='page_379'></a>379</span> +gave the usual signal—the screech-owl’s cry. It +was inappropriate at this time, yet he could +not risk less, and he sent it forth again and +again.</p> +<p>Getting no answer he ventured cautiously to +call Gideon Rust’s name, and when this failed +he looked about him and came to a decision. The +boys were gone. The fat was in the fire. Yet—he +returned to it—the marshal could not be there +before noon. He had time to remove the whiskey +if he worked hard enough. He glanced at the +still. The worm and appurtenances were of +value. He had saved money for nearly two years +to buy the new copper-work. He wondered if he +might empty and take it also.</p> +<p>For half an hour he toiled desperately, carrying +filled jugs up the steep and hiding them carefully +in his loaded wagon. The kegs he could not move +alone, and set to work jugging the fluid from them. +Sweat poured down his face, to which, though he +drank repeatedly from the tin cup, no flush +returned. His teeth were set continually on his +under lip. His breath came heavily as he lifted +and stooped. In the midst of his labours a slight +noise at the cave entrance brought him to his feet, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_380' name='page_380'></a>380</span> +staring in terror. The sight of trembling Gideon +Rust in the opening reassured him.</p> +<p>“Come in here, you old davil, and help me jug +this whiskey,” he cried out. “Whar’s Scalf? +How come you an’ him to let them boys git +away? What do you reckon I’m a-goin’ to do +to you for it?”</p> +<p>“Why, is them fellers gone?” quavered the old +man, craning his neck to look gingerly in. “I +never seen nothin’ movin’ up here, but—they +was a gal or so come norratin’ past on the path; I +’lowed when I seed calicker that it mought be +Huldy, you named her so free.”</p> +<p>“Well, shut yo’ fool mouth and get yo’se’f to +work,” ordered Blatch. “I’ve got to be out o’ +this.”</p> +<p>He turned his back on old Gid and forgot +him.</p> +<p>“Ef I thort I had time I’d take my still with +me,” he ruminated, going close to it and laying +a fond touch upon the copper-work. “I’m a +mind to try it.”</p> +<p>“Hands up, Turrentine!” came a short sharp +order from outside. Blatch whirled like a flash, +and looked past Gideon Rust in the doorway. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_381' name='page_381'></a>381</span> +Over the old man’s shaking shoulders, he saw the +levelled rifles of the marshal and his posse.</p> +<p>“Thar,” whispered ancient Gideon fairly weeping, +as they closed in on Turrentine and snapped +the handcuffs on his wrists, “now mebbe ye +won’t name a pore old woman’s name so free, +ef you <i>have</i> bought her to yo’ will, and set her +to spy on them that’s been good friends to her.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXVII_LOVE_S_GUERDON' id='XXVII_LOVE_S_GUERDON'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_382' name='page_382'></a>382</span> +<h2>Chapter XXVII</h2> +<h3>Love’s Guerdon</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Judith left Andy in charge of her +patient and mounted the ladderlike stair +to her own small room under the eaves, she felt +no disposition to sleep. She did not undress, but +sat down by the window and stared out into the +black November night. Despite everything, there +had come a sort of peace over her tumult, a +stilling that was not mere weariness. She was +like a woman who has just been saved from a +shipwreck, snatched away from the imminent +jaws of doom—chastened, and wondering a little. +Intensely thankful for what she had escaped, she +sat there in the dark, cold little room, Judith +Barrier, safe from the sin of a godless union, from +the life that would have been hers as Blatchley +Turrentine’s wife.</p> +<p>In the light of her danger, familiar things took +on a new face, strange, yet dear and welcome. +She turned and gazed with childish eyes up at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_383' name='page_383'></a>383</span> +decent beams of her rooftree, glad that they still +sheltered her a maid, glad that the arms of her +home were about her.</p> +<p>With remorseless honesty she went back over +her years. Always in the past months of suffering +she had blamed this or that extraneous circumstance +with her undoing; now she saw and recognised +and acknowledged that nothing and nobody +had brought disaster upon her but herself. It +was not because Blatchley Turrentine was a bad, +lawless man, not because the boys were reckless +fellows, led and influenced by him, that all this +trouble had come. If she, Judith Barrier, had +dealt fairly and humbly by her world, she +might have had the lover of her choice in peace +as other girls had—even as Cliantha and Pendrilla +had. But no, such enterprises as contented +these, such stir as they made among their kind, +would not do her. She must seek to cast her +spells upon every eligible man within her reach. +She must try her hand at subjugating those who +were difficult, pride herself on the skill with which +she retained half a dozen in anxious doubt as to +her ultimate intentions concerning them.</p> +<p>Her forehead drooped to the window pane and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_384' name='page_384'></a>384</span> +her cheeks burned as she recollected times and +seasons and scenes that belonged to the years when +Blatch was building up his firm belief that she +loved him, and would sometime marry him. It +had been a spirited, dangerous game to her then, +nothing more.</p> +<p>Her passionate, possessive nature was winning +to higher ground, leaving, with pain and travail +of spirit, the plane on which her twenty years +had been lived. The past months of thwarting, +failure, and heart-hunger had prepared for this +movement, to-night it was almost consciously +making. She was coming to the place where, if +she might not have love, she could at least be +worthy of it. The little clock which had measured +her vigils that night of the dumb supper +slanted toward twelve. She got to her feet with a +long sigh. She did not know yet what she meant +to do or to forbear doing; but she was aware, +with relief, of a radical change within her, a +something awakened there which could consider +the right of Creed—even of Huldah; which could +submit to failure, to rejection—and be kind. +Slowly she gathered up her belongings and took +her way downstairs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_385' name='page_385'></a>385</span></p> +<p>When the door of the sick-room closed behind +the boys, she went and knelt down beside the bed +and looked fixedly at the sleeper. With the birth +of this new spiritual impulse the things Blatch +Turrentine had said of Creed and Creed’s intentions +dropped away from her as fall the dead +leaves from the bough of that most tenacious of +oak trees which holds its withered foliage till +the swelling buds of a new spring push it off. +He was a good man. She felt that to the innnermost +core of her heart. She loved him. She believed +she would always love him. As for his +being married to Huldah, she would not inquire +how that came about, how it could have happened +while she felt him to be promised to herself. +There was—there must be—a right way for even +that to befall. She must love him and forgive +him, for only so could she face her life, only so +could she patch a little peace with herself and +still the gnawing agony in her breast. Long she +knelt thus.</p> +<p>Who that knows even a little the wonders of +the subjective mind, who that has tested the +marvellous communication between the mood of +nurse and patient, will doubt that the sick man, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_386' name='page_386'></a>386</span> +lying passive, receptive, got now Judith’s message +of peace and relaxation. The girl herself, +powerful, dominating young creature, had been +fought to a spiritual standstill. She was at +last forced to her knees, and the atmosphere +which her passionate struggles had long disturbed +grew serene about her. Even a wavering note +of something more joyous than mere peace, a +courage, a strength that promised happiness must +have radiated from her to him. For Creed’s +eyes opened and looked full into hers with a +wholly rational expression which had long been +absent from their clear depths.</p> +<p>“Judith—honey,” he whispered, and fumbled +vaguely for her hand upon the coverlet.</p> +<p>“Yes, Creed—what is it? What do you want?” +she asked tremulously, taking the thin fingers in +her warm clasp.</p> +<p>“Nothing—so long as I’ve got you,” he returned +contentedly. “Can’t I sit up—and won’t +you sit down here by me and talk awhile?”</p> +<p>Gently smiling, Judith helped him to sit up, +and piled the pillows back of his head and +shoulders, noting almost with surprise how well +he looked, how clear and direct was his gaze. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_387' name='page_387'></a>387</span></p> +<p>“I’ve been sick a long time, haven’t I?” he +asked.</p> +<p>“Yes,” the girl replied, drawing up a chair +and seating herself. “Hit’s more’n six weeks +that Uncle Jep an’ me has been takin’ care of +you.”</p> +<p>He lifted her hand and stroked it softly.</p> +<p>“A body gets mighty tired of a sick fellow,” +he said wistfully.</p> +<p>Judith’s eyes filled at the pitiful little plea, but +she could not offer endearments to Huldah’s +husband.</p> +<p>“I ain’t tired of you,” she returned in a low, +choked voice. “I most wisht I was. Creed——”</p> +<p>She slipped from her chair dropping on her +knees beside him.</p> +<p>“Creed, I want to tell you now while I can do +it that the boys is gone to get Huldy. She can +take care of you after this—but I’ll help. I +ain’t mad about it. I was aimin’ to tell you +that the next time she come in you should bid +her stay. God knows I want ye to be happy—whether +it’s me or another.”</p> +<p>Bewilderment grew in the blue eyes regarding +her so fixedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_388' name='page_388'></a>388</span></p> +<p>“Huldah?” he repeated. And then again in a +lower, musing tone, “Huldah.”</p> +<p>“Yes—yo’ wife, Huldy Spiller,” Judith urged +mildly. “Don’t you mind namin’ it to me the +first time she slipped in to visit you?”</p> +<p>An abashed look succeeded the expression of +bewilderment. A faint, fine flush crept on the +thin, white cheek.</p> +<p>“I—I do,” Creed whispered, with a foolish little +smile beginning to curve his lips; “but there +wasn’t a word of truth in it—dear. I’ve never +seen the girl since she left Aunt Nancy’s that +Saturday morning.”</p> +<p>“What made you say it then?” breathed +Judith wonderingly.</p> +<p>“I—I don’t know,” faltered the sick man. “It +seemed like you was mad about something; and +then it seemed like Huldah was here; and then—I +don’t know Judith—didn’t I say a heap of +other foolishness?”</p> +<p>The simple query reproved his nurse more than +a set arraignment would have done. He had +indeed babbled, in his semi-delirium, plenty of +“other foolishness,” this was the only point upon +which she had been credulous. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_389' name='page_389'></a>389</span></p> +<p>“Oh Creed—honey!” she cried, burying her +face in the covers of his bed, “I’m so ’shamed. +I’ve got such a mean, bad disposition. Nobody +couldn’t ever love me if they knew me right well.”</p> +<p>She felt a gentle, caressing touch on her bowed +head.</p> +<p>“Jude, darling,” Creed’s voice came to her, and +for the first time it sounded really like his voice, +“I loved you from the moment I set eyes on you. +I didn’t sense it for a spell, but I come to see that +you were the one woman in the world for me. +There never was a man done what went more +against the grain than I the night I parted from +you down at the railroad station and let you go +back when you would have come with me—so +generous—so loving—”</p> +<p>He broke off with a choking sigh, and Judith +raised her head in a sort of consternation. Were +these the exciting topics that her Uncle Jep would +have banished from the sick-room? she wondered. +But no, Creed had never looked so nearly a well +man as now. He raised himself from the pillows.</p> +<p>“Don’t!” she called sharply, as she sprang up +and slipped a capable arm under his shoulders, +laying his head on her breast. “You ort not to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_390' name='page_390'></a>390</span> +do thataway,” she reproached him. “When +you want anything I’ll git it.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want a thing, but this,” whispered +Creed, looking up into her eyes. “Nothing, +only——”</p> +<p>Judith read the mute prayer aright, and tears +of exquisite feeling blinded her. As she looked +at him, there was loosed upon her soul the whole +tide of passionate tenderness which had gathered +there since first she saw him standing, eager, fearless, +selfless, on the Court House steps at Hepzibah. +The yellow head lay on her arm now; those blue +eyes which, in many bitter hours since that time, +had seemed as unattainable to her love as the sky +itself, were raised to her own, they were pleading +for her kiss. She bent her face; the full red lips +met Creed’s. The weary longing was satisfied; the +bitterness was washed away.</p> +<p>They remained quietly thus, Creed drinking in +new life from her nearness, from her dearness. +When she would have lifted her head, his thin +hand went up and was laid over the rounded cheek, +bringing the sweet mouth back to his own.</p> +<p>“I’ll need a heap of loving, Judith,” he whispered,—“a +heap. I’ve been such a lone fellow +all my days. You’ll have to be everything and +everybody to me.”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_391' name='page_391'></a>391</span> +<img src='images/illus-390.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 332px; height: 480px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 332px;'> +“They had forgotten all the world save themselves and their love.”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Judith’s lavish nature, so long choked back +upon itself, trembled to its very core with rapture +at the bidding. It seemed to her that all of +Heaven she had ever craved was to do and be +everything that Creed Bonbright needed. She +answered with an inarticulate murmur of tenderness, +a sound inexpressibly wooing and moving. +All that she had felt, all that she meant for the +future, surged strong within her—was fain for +utterance. But Judith was not fluent; she must +content herself with doing and being—Creed +could speak for her now. She cherished the fair +hair with loving touch, nestling the thin cheek +against her soft, warm one.</p> +<p>The beautiful storm-rocked craft of Judith’s +passion was safe at last in Love’s own harbour; +the skies were fair above it, and only Love’s +tender airs breathed about its weary sails.</p> +<p>“We’ll be wedded in the spring,” Creed’s lips +murmured against her own. “I’ll carry home +a bride to the old place. Oh, we’ll be happy, +Judith.”</p> +<p>All through the latter part of the night, while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_392' name='page_392'></a>392</span> +the two lovers were drawing out of the ways of +doubt and pain and misunderstanding, into so +full and sweet a communion, the November breeze +had been rising; toward dawn it moved quite +steadily. And with its impulse moved the cedar +tree, a long, smooth swaying, that set free that +tender, baritone legato to which Judith’s ears +had harkened away last March, when she came +home from Hepzibah after first seeing Creed Bonbright. +It was the voice which had talked to her +throughout the spring, the early summer, through +autumn’s desolate days, when the waiting in ignorance +of his whereabouts and of his welfare seemed +almost more than she could bear; it was the voice +which had called upon her so tragically, so insistently, +the night of the raid on Nancy Card’s cabin. +But Creed himself was here now; Creed’s own lips +spoke close to her ear. The cedar tree had its +song to itself once more; she no longer needed its +music. Its sound was unheard by her, as the +flame of a candle is unseen in the strong light of +the sun.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XXVIII_A_PROPHECY' id='XXVIII_A_PROPHECY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_393' name='page_393'></a>393</span> +<h2>Chapter XXVIII</h2> +<h3>A Prophecy</h3> +</div> + +<p>Over the shoulder of Yellow Old Bald up +came the sun, bannered and glorious; the +distant ranges glowed in his splendours; the sere +fields about the place were all gilded. The small-paned +eastern window of the sick-room let in a +flood of morning light. Gone was the bird choir +that used to welcome his earliest rays, swept +south by the great tide of migration. Those that +remained, snowbird, cardinal, and downy woodpecker—the +“checkerbacker” of the mountaineer,—harboured +all night and much of the day in the +barn loft and in Judith’s cedar tree. Their +twittering sounded cheerily about the eaves.</p> +<p>Back and forth in the puncheon-floored kitchen +trudged old Dilsey Rust’s heavy-shod foot, carrying +her upon the appointed tasks of the day.</p> +<p>In the quiet sick-room, where the low, alternating +voices had subsided into an exchange of +murmured words, suddenly Creed dropped his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_394' name='page_394'></a>394</span> +head back to stare at his companion with startled +eyes.</p> +<p>“Judith!” he exclaimed. “Where are the +boys?”</p> +<p>He glanced at the window, then about the +room.</p> +<p>“It’s broad day. That word Blatch sent +was a decoy; Huldah Spiller isn’t on the +mountain. Somebody must go over there.”</p> +<p>Judith rose swiftly to her feet.</p> +<p>“My Lord, Creed! I forgot all about ’em,” +she said contritely. “Ye don’t reckon Blatch +would harm the boys? And yet yo’ right—it +does look bad. I don’t know what to do, +honey. They ain’t a man on the place till Uncle +Jep comes. But maybe he’ll be along in about +an hour.”</p> +<p>She hurried to the window and stared over toward +the Gulch; and at the moment a group of +people topped the steep, rising into view one after +the other out of the ravine, and coming on +toward the house.</p> +<p>“Here they are now,” she said with relief +in her tones. “Thar’s Andy—Jeff, Pendrilly—why, +whatever—The Lusk girls is with ’em! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_395' name='page_395'></a>395</span> +They’s another—Creed, they <i>have</i> got Huldy! +And that last feller—no, ’tain’t Blatch—of all +things—it’s Wade! They’re comin’ straight to +this door. Shall I let them in?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Creed’s steady voice. “Let them +right in.”</p> +<p>She ran swiftly to slip an extra pillow under +her patient’s shoulders, straighten the covers +of the bed, and put all in company trim. Her +eye brightened when she saw him sitting so erect +and alert almost like his old self. Somebody +rattled the latch.</p> +<p>“Come in, folks,” Creed called, speaking out +with a roundness and decision that it did her +heart good to hear.</p> +<p>They all pushed into the room, the men shouldering +back a little, glancing anxiously at the sick +man, the Lusk girls timid, but Huldah leading +the van.</p> +<p>“How’s Creed?” cried the irrepressible one, +bounding into the room and looking about her. +“Wade got yo’ letter, Cousin Judy, an’ I says +to him that right now was the time for us to make +a visit home. Wade’s got him a good place on +the railroad, and I like livin’ in the settlement; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_396' name='page_396'></a>396</span> +but bridal towers is all the go down thar, and we +’lowed we’d take one.”</p> +<p>Every inch of her raiment bespoke the bride, +and it did not take Creed many moments to understand +the situation, put out a thin white hand +and, smiling, offer his congratulations. Wade +received them with some low-toned, hesitating +words of apology.</p> +<p>“Law, Cousin Creed’s ready to let bygones be +bygones, Wade, honey!” his wife admonished him.</p> +<p>“<i>Cousin</i> Creed?” echoed the obtuse Jeff.</p> +<p>Wade’s wife whirled to put a ready arm around +Judith’s waist. “Why, you an’ him is a-goin’ to +be wedded, ain’t you Judy? I always knowed, +and I always said to everybody that I named +it to, that you was cut out and made for each +other. We heared tell from everybody in the +Turkey Tracks that you an’ Creed was goin’ +to be wedded as soon as he got well—then I +reckon he’ll be my cousin, won’t he?”</p> +<p>Creed looked past the whispering girls to where +Andy and Jeff stood. As the boys moved toward +the bed.</p> +<p>“Did you find Blatch?” he asked, with a man’s +directness. “How did you-all make out?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_397' name='page_397'></a>397</span></p> +<p>Andy opened his lips to answer, when there +was a clatter of hoofs outside. As they all +turned to the window, Jephthah Turrentine’s +big voice, with a new tone in it, called out to +somebody.</p> +<p>“Hold on thar, honey—lemme lift ye down.”</p> +<p>“Ain’t Uncle Jep goin’ to be proud when he +sees how well you air?” Judith, stooping, whispered +to Creed. “He went off to get somebody to he’p +nurse you, because he said I done you more harm +than good.”</p> +<p>“Your Uncle Jep don’t know everything,” +returned Creed softly.</p> +<p>No mountaineer ever knocks on a door, but +Jephthah Turrentine made considerable racket +with the latch before he entered the room.</p> +<p>“Oh—you air awake,” he said cautiously, then, +looking about at the others, “an’ got company +so airly in the mornin’.” He glanced from the +newcomers to his patient. “You look fine—fine!” +he asserted with high satisfaction; then turning +over his shoulder, “Come right along in, honey—Creed’ll +be proud to see ye.”</p> +<p>He paused on the threshold, reaching back a +hand and entered, pulling after him Nancy Card—who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_398' name='page_398'></a>398</span> +was Nancy Card no longer. A wild-rose +pink was in her withered cheeks under the frank +grey eyes. She smiled as Judith had never +imagined she could smile. But even then the +young people scarcely fathomed the situation.</p> +<p>“Creed,” cried the old man, “I’ve brung ye the +best doctor and nurse there is on the mountings. +Nancy she run off and left us, and I had to go +after her, and I ’lowed I’d make sartain that she’d +never run away from me again, so I’ve jest—we +jest——”</p> +<p>“Ye ain’t married!” cried Judith, sudden +light coming in on her.</p> +<p>“We air that,” announced old Jephthah radiantly.</p> +<p>“Well, Jude, I jest had to take him,” apologised +Nancy. “Here was him with the rheumatics +every spring, an’ bound and determined that +he’d lay out in the bushes deer-huntin’ like +he done when he was twenty, and me knowin’ +in reason that a good course of dandelion and +boneset, with my liniment well rubbed in, would +fix him up—why, I jest <i>had</i> to take him.”</p> +<p>She looked about her for support, and she got +it from an unexpected quarter. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_399' name='page_399'></a>399</span></p> +<p>“Well, I think you done jest right,” piped up +Huldah, who had been a silent spectator as long +as she could endure it, “I’m mighty glad I’ve +got a new mother-in-law, ’caze I know Pap Turrentine’s +apt to be well taken keer of in his old +days.”</p> +<p>His old days! Nancy looked indignantly from +the red-haired girl to her bridegroom who, in her +eyes, was evidently still a sprightly youth.</p> +<p>“Huh!” she remarked enigmatically. Then +with a sudden change; “Yit whilst we are +a-namin’ sech, honey, won’t you jest run out to +my saddle and bring me the spotted caliker +poke off’n hit—hit’s got my bundle of yarbs in it. +I’ll put on a drawin’ of boneset for you befo’ I +set down.”</p> +<p>“All right, Nancy—but I reckon I’ll have to +clear these folks out of this sick-room fust,” +responded old Jephthah genially. “We’re apt +to have too much goin’ on for Creed.”</p> +<p>But as they were marshalled to leave, the +noise of a new arrival in the kitchen brought +the curious Huldah to the door and she threw it +wide to admit Iley, into whose arms she promptly +precipitated herself with voluble explanations, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_400' name='page_400'></a>400</span> +which covered her career from the time she left +Jim Cal’s cabin till that moment.</p> +<p>“You an’ Wade are wedded? Why couldn’t +you let a body know?” inquired Iley wrathfully, +grasping her by the shoulder, holding her off +for somewhat hostile inspection.</p> +<p>“That’s what I say,” echoed Jim Cal’s voice +from the doorway where he harboured, a trifle +out of sight. “Ef you-all gals would be a little +mo’ open an’ above-bo’d about yo’ courtin’ business +hit would save lots of folks plenty of trouble. +Here’s Iley got some sort o’ notion that Huldy +was over at Blatch’s, an’ she put out an’ run me +home so fast that I ain’t ketched my breath +till yit.”</p> +<p>“Over at Blatch’s?” old Jephthah looked +angrily about him, and Judith made haste to +explain the whole matter, detailing everything +that had led up to the trouble.</p> +<p>“We-all talked it over, Uncle Jep, and as you +wasn’t here we made out to do the best we +could, and the boys went.”</p> +<p>“After me!” crowed Huldah. “An’ thar I was +on the train ’long o’ Wade comin’ to Garyville +that blessed minute.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_401' name='page_401'></a>401</span></p> +<p>“Well, Blatch had us hog-tied an’ waitin’ for +the marshal to come an’ cyart us down and send +us to the penitentiary,” Jeff set forth the case. +“But you know how Blatch is, always devilin’ +folks; he made old Gid Rust mad, an’ when +Clianthy an’ Pendrilly met the old man out on the +road soon this mornin’, he told ’em to take a +knife and come up to the cave an’ they could +keep what they found.”</p> +<p>“I never was so scairt in my life,” Cliantha +asseverated. Her china-blue eyes had not yet +resumed their normal size or contour, and the +assertion was easily believed.</p> +<p>“Nor me neither,” agreed Pendrilla. “I says +to him, says I, ‘Now you, Gid Rust, do you ’low +we’re crazy? We’re a-lookin’ for old Boss and +Spot, an’ we ain’t a-goin’ up yon nary step.’ +An’ he says to us, says he, ‘Gals, you never mind +about no cows,’ he says. ‘Hit’ll shore be the +worse for Andy and Jeff Turrentine ef you don’t +git yo’selves up thar an’ git up thar quick.’ +An’ with that he gives us his knife out of his +pocket, ’caze we didn’t have none, and we +run the whole blessed way, and cut the boys +a-loose.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_402' name='page_402'></a>402</span></p> +<p>“I was that mad when I seen ’em tied up thataway,” +chimed in Cliantha, “that I wouldn’t +a ’cared the rappin’ o’ my finger ef old Blatch +Turrentine hisself had been thar. I’d ’a’ stood +right up to him an’ told him what I thort o’ +him an’ his works.” There are conditions, it is +said, in which even the timid hare becomes +militant, and doves will peck at the intruder.</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon I got to get you folks out +of here now for sartain,” said Jephthah as she +made an end. “Nancy, honey, is the yarbs +you wanted for Creed in with them you’re +a-goin’ to use on me?”</p> +<p>The little old woman felt of Creed’s fingers, +she laid a capable hand upon his brow. Then +she flashed one of her quick, youthful smiles at +her husband.</p> +<p>“You named it to me about Jude and Creed +being at the outs,” she said frankly; “but I see +they’ve made up their troubles. The boy +don’t need no medicine.”</p> +<p>Jephthah stared at his transformed patient, +and admitted that it was so.</p> +<p>“Well he does need some peace and quiet,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_403' name='page_403'></a>403</span> +the head of the house maintained as he ushered +his clan into the adjoining room.</p> +<p>“Uncle Jephthah,” called Creed’s quiet voice, +with the ring of the old enthusiasm in it, as his +host was leaving the room. “Do you remember +telling me that the trouble with my work on the +mountain was, I was one man alone? Do you +remember saying that if I was a member of a +big family—a great big tribe—that I’d get along +all right and accomplish what I set out for?”</p> +<p>“I say sech a lot of foolishness, son, I cain’t +ricollect it all. Likely I did say that. Hit +mought have some truth in it.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Creed, carrying the hand he held +to his lips, “I reckon I’ll be a member of a big +tribe now; maybe I can take up the work yet, +and do some good.”</p> +<p>The old man looked at him. Here was the +son of his heart—of his mind and nature—the +congenial spirit; the welcome companion, interested +like himself in abstractions, willing to +stake all on an idea. Days of good comradeship +stretched before these two. He reached down +a brown right hand, and Creed’s thin white one +went out to meet it in a quick, nervous clasp. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_404' name='page_404'></a>404</span></p> +<p>“Son,” spoke out Jephthah in that deep, +sonorous voice of his, “Creed, boy, what you set +out to do was a work for a man’s lifetime; but +God made you for jest what you aimed then to +do and be. Yo’ mighty young yet, but you +air formed for a leader of men. To the last day +of its life an oak will be an oak and a willer a +willer; and yo’ head won’t be grey when you +find yo’ work and find yo’self a-doin’ it right.”</p> +<p>“Pap Turrentine!” called Huldah from the +kitchen, “Maw wants ye out here.”</p> +<p>The door swung wide; it showed a vision of +Nancy Turrentine, flushed, bustling, capable, the +crinkled grey hair pushed back above those +bright eyes of hers with a prideful hand, entering +upon the administration of her new realm. Oh, +it had not been easy for one of her spirit to be a +poor little widow, living out on the Edge, with +nobody but slack Doss Provine to do for her, +hardly dishes enough to set the table, often not +much to put in them, eking out a scanty living +by weaving baskets of white-oak splits. When +Judith rode up to the cabin on the Edge that +evening of late March, it was the hardest time +of the year; now was the mountaineer’s season +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_405' name='page_405'></a>405</span> +of cheer and abundance—his richest month. +Outside, nuts were gathering, hunting was good, +and she had for her provider of wild meat the +mightiest hunter in the Turkey Tracks. Jephthah +Turrentine’s home was ample and well +plenished. There was good store of root crops +laid up for winter. Judith had neglected such +matters to tend on Creed, but Nancy was already +putting in hand the cutting and drying of pumpkins, +the threshing out of beans. Here were +milk vessels a-plenty to scald and sun—and +filling for them afterward. Oh, enough to do +with!—the will to do had always been Nancy’s—and +for yokefellow in the home, one who would +carry his share and pull true—a real man—the +only one there had ever been for Nancy.</p> +<p>“Pap,” called Huldah’s insistent voice again.</p> +<p>“All right—I’m a-comin’,” declared Jephthah, +then, with the door in his hand, turned back, +meaning to finish what had been in his mind to +say to Creed.</p> +<p>Jephthah Turrentine was himself that day +a bridegroom, wedded to the one love of his life; +he appreciated to the full that which had come +to Creed. He had thought to say to the boy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_406' name='page_406'></a>406</span> +that now was the opening of great things, to +remind him that one must first live man’s natural +life, must prove himself as son, brother, husband, +father, and neighbour, before he will be accepted +or efficient in the larger calling. He would have +said that life must teach the man before the man +could teach his fellows.</p> +<p>But the words of homely wisdom in which he +would have clothed this truth remained unspoken. +He glanced back and saw the dark +head bent close above the yellow one, as Judith +performed some little service for Creed. The +girl’s rich brown beauty glowed and bloomed +before the steady, blue fire of her lover’s eyes. +She set down her tumbler and knelt beside him. +Their lips were murmuring, they had forgotten +all the world save themselves and their love. +Jephthah looked at the rapt young faces; these +two were on the mount of transfiguration; the +light ineffable was all about them.</p> +<p>“Lord, what’s the use of a old fool like me +sayin’ I, ay, yes or no to sech a pair as that?” +he whispered as he went out softly and closed +the door.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JUDITH OF THE CUMBERLANDS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 26527-h.txt or 26527-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/2/26527">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/5/2/26527</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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