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diff --git a/6013.txt b/6013.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76d400d --- /dev/null +++ b/6013.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12816 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Viola Gwyn, by George Barr McCutcheon + +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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Viola Gwyn + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Posting Date: April 12, 2013 [EBook #6013] +Release Date: July, 2004 +First Posted: October 16, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIOLA GWYN *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "I shall get married when and where I please,--and +to whom I please, Mr. Gwynne."] + +VIOLA GWYN + +BY George Barr McCutcheon + + + + + +CONTENTS + +PROLOGUE--THE BEGINNING + +CHAPTER + + I SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT + II THE STRANGE YOUNG WOMAN + III SOMETHING ABOUT CLOTHES, AND MEN, AND CATS + IV VIOLA GWYN + V REFLECTIONS AND AN ENCOUNTER + VI BARRY LAPELLE + VII THE END OF THE LONG ROAD + VIII RACHEL CARTER + IX BROTHER AND SISTER + X MOTHER AND DAUGHTER + XI A ROADSIDE MEETING + XII ISAAC STAIN APPEARS BY NIGHT + XIII THE GRACIOUS ENEMY + XIV A MAN FROM DOWN THE RIVER + XV THE LANDING OF THE "PAUL REVERE" + XVI CONCERNING TEMPESTS AND INDIANS + XVII REVELATIONS + XVIII RACHEL DELIVERS A MESSAGE + XIX LAPELLE SHOWS HIS TEETH + XX THE BLOW + XXI THE AFFAIR AT HAWK'S CABIN + XXII THE PRISONERS + XXIII CHALLENGE AND RETORT + XXIV IN AN UPSTAIRS ROOM + XXV MINDA CARTER + XXVI THE FLIGHT OF MARTIN HAWK + XXVII THE TRIAL OF MOLL HAWK +XXVIII THE TRYSTING PLACE OF THOUGHTS + XXIX THE ENDING + + + + +PROLOGUE + +THE BEGINNING + + +Kenneth Gwynne was five years old when his father ran away with +Rachel Carter, a widow. This was in the spring of 1812, and in +the fall his mother died. His grandparents brought him up to hate +Rachel Carter, an evil woman. + +She was his mother's friend and she had slain her with the viper's +tooth. From the day that his questioning intelligence seized upon +the truth that had been so carefully withheld from him by his +broken-hearted mother and those who spoke behind the hand when +he was near,--from that day he hated Rachel Carter with all his +hot and outraged heart. He came to think of her as the embodiment +of all that was evil,--for those were the days when there was no +middle-ground for sin and women were either white or scarlet. + +He rejoiced in the belief that in good time Rachel Carter would come +to roast in the everlasting fires of hell, grovelling and wailing +at the feet of Satan, the while his lovely mother looked down +upon her in pity,--even then he wondered if such a thing were +possible,--from her seat beside God in His Heaven. He had no doubts +about this. Hell and heaven were real to him, and all sinners went +below. On the other hand, his father would be permitted to repent and +would instantly go to heaven. It was inconceivable that his big, +strong, well-beloved father should go to the bad place. But Mrs. Carter +would! Nothing could save her! God would not pay any attention to +her if she tried to repent; He would know it was only "make-believe" +if she got down on her knees and prayed for forgiveness. He was +convinced that Rachel Carter could not fool God. Besides, would +not his mother be there to remind Him in case He could not exactly +remember what Rachel Carter had done? And were there not dozens of +good, honest people in the village who would probably be in Heaven +by that time and ready to stand before the throne and bear witness +that she was a bad woman? + +No, Rachel Carter could never get into Heaven. He was glad. +No matter if the Scriptures did say all that about the sinner who +repents, he did not believe that God would let her in. He supported +this belief by the profoundly childish contention that if God let +EVERYBODY in, then there would be no use having a hell at all. What +was the use of being good all your life if the bad people could +get into Heaven at the last minute by telling God they were sorry +and never would do anything bad again as long as they lived? And +was not God the wisest Being in all the world? He knew EVERYTHING! +He knew all about Rachel Carter. She would go to the bad place and +stay there forever, even after the "resurrection" and the end of +the world by fire in 1883, a calamity to which he looked forward +with grave concern and no little trepidation at the thoughtful age +of six. + +At first they told him his father had gone off as a soldier to +fight against the Indians and the British. He knew that a war was +going on. Men with guns were drilling in the pasture up beyond +his grandfather's house, and there was talk of Indian "massacrees," +and Simon Girty's warriors, and British red-coats, and the awful +things that happened to little boys who disobeyed their elders +and went swimming, or berrying, or told even the teeniest kind of +fibs. He overheard his grandfather and the neighbours discussing +a battle on Lake Erie, and rejoiced with them over the report of +a great victory for "our side." Vaguely he had grasped the news of +a horrible battle on the Tippecanoe River, far away in the wilderness +to the north and west, in which millions of Indians were slain, +and he wondered how many of them his father had killed with his +rifle,--a weapon so big and long that he came less than half way +up the barrel when he stood beside it. + +His father was a great shot. Everybody said so. He could kill wild +turkeys a million miles away as easy as rolling off a log, and deer, +and catamounts, and squirrels, and herons, and everything. So his +father must have killed heaps of Indians and red-coats and renegades. + +He put this daily question to his mother: "How many do you s'pose +Pa has killed by this time, Ma?" + +And then, in the fall, his mother went away and left him. They did +not tell him she had gone to the war. He would not have believed +them if they had, for she was too sick to go. She had been in bed +for a long, long time; the doctor came to see her every day, and +finally the preacher. He hated both of them, especially the latter, +who prayed so loudly and so vehemently that his mother must have +been terribly disturbed. Why should every one caution him to be +quiet and not make a noise because it disturbed mother, and yet say +nothing when that old preacher went right into her room and yelled +same as he always did in church? He was very bitter about it, +and longed for his father to come home with his rifle and shoot +everybody, including his grandfather who had "switched" him severely +and unjustly because he threw stones at Parson Hook's saddle horse +while the good man was offering up petitions from the sick room. + +He went to the "burying," and was more impressed by the fact that +nearly all of the men who rode or drove to the graveyard down in +the "hollow" carried rifles and pistols than he was by the strange +solemnity of the occasion, for, while he realized in a vague, +mistrustful way that his mother was to be put under the ground, +his trust clung resolutely to God's promise, accepted in its most +literal sense, that the dead shall rise again and that "ye shall +be born again." That was what the preacher said,--and he had cried +a little when the streaming-eyed clergyman took him on his knee +and whispered that all was well with his dear mother and that he +would meet her one day in that beautiful land beyond the River. + +He was very lonely after that. His "granny" tucked him in his big +feather bed every night, and listened to his little prayer, but she +was not the same as mother. She did not kiss him in the same way, +nor did her hand feel like mother's when she smoothed his rumpled +hair or buttoned his flannel nightgown about his neck or closed +his eyes playfully with her fingers before she went away with the +candle. Yet he adored her. She was sweet and gentle, she told such +wonderful fairy tales to him, and she always smiled at him. He +wondered a great deal. Why was it that she did not FEEL the same +as mother? He was deeply puzzled. Was it because her hair was grey? + +His grandfather lived in the biggest house in town. It +had an "upstairs,"--a real "upstairs,"--not just an attic. And +his grandfather was a very important person. Everybody called him +"Squire"; sometimes they said "your honour"; most people touched +their hats to him. When his father went off to the war, he and his +mother came to live at "grandpa's house." The cabin in which he was +born was at the other end of the street, fully half-a-mile away, +out beyond the grist mill. It had but three rooms and no "upstairs" +at all except the place under the roof where they kept the dried +apples, and the walnuts and hickory nuts, some old saddle-bags and +boxes, and his discarded cradle. You had to climb up a ladder and +through a square hole in the ceiling to get into this place, and +you would have to be very careful not to stand up straight or you +would bump your head,--unless you were exactly in the middle, where +the ridge-pole was. + +He remembered that it was a very long walk to "grandpa's house"; he +used to get very tired and his father would lift him up and place +him on his shoulder; from this lofty, even perilous, height he could +look down upon the top of his mother's bonnet,--a most astonishing +view and one that filled him with glee. + +His father was the biggest man in all the world, there could be no +doubt about that. Why, he was bigger even than grandpa, or Doctor +Flint, or the parson, or Mr. Carter, who lived in the cabin next door +and was Minda's father. For the matter of that, he was, himself, a +great deal bigger than Minda, who was only two years old and could +not say anywhere near as many words as he could say--and did not +know her ABC's, or the Golden Rule, or who George Washington was. + +And his father was ever so much taller than his mother. He was tall +enough to be her father or her grandfather; why, she did not come +up to his shoulder when she walked beside him. He was a million +times bigger than she was. He was bigger than anybody else in all +the world. + +The little border town in Kentucky, despite its population of +less than a thousand, was the biggest city in the world. There was +no doubt about that either in Kenneth's loyal little mind. It was +bigger than Philadelphia--(he called it Fil-LEF-ily),--where his +mother used to live when she was a little girl, or Massashooshoo, +where Minda's father and mother comed from. + +He was secretly distressed by the superior physical proportions of +his "Auntie" Rachel. There was no denying the fact that she was a +great deal taller than his mother. He had an abiding faith, however, +that some day his mother would grow up and be lots taller than +Minda's mother. He challenged his toddling playmate to deny that +his mother would be as big as hers some day, a lofty taunt that +left Minda quite unmoved. + +Nevertheless, he was very fond of "Auntie" Rachel. She was good +to him. She gave him cakes and crullers and spread maple sugar on +many a surreptitious piece of bread and butter, and she had a jolly +way of laughing, and she never told him to wash his hands or face, +no matter how dirty they were. In that one respect, at least, she +was much nicer than his mother. He liked Mr. Carter, too. In fact, he +liked everybody except old Boose, the tin pedlar, who took little +boys out into the woods and left them for the wolves to eat if they +were not very, very good. + +He was four when they brought Mr. Carter home in a wagon one day. +Some men carried him into the house, and Aunt Rachel cried, and +his mother went over and stayed a long, long time with her, and +his father got on his horse and rode off as fast as he could go +for Doctor Flint, and he was not allowed to go outside the house +all day,--or old Boose would get him. + +Then, one day, he saw "Auntie" Rachel all dressed in black, and he +was frightened. He ran away crying. She looked so tall and scary,---like +the witches Biddy Shay whispered about when his grandma was not +around,--the witches and hags that flew up to the sky on broomsticks +and never came out except at night. + +His father did the "chores" for '"Auntie" Rachel for a long time, +because Mr. Carter was not there to attend to them. + +There came a day when the buds were fresh on the twigs, and the +grass was very green, and the birds that had been gone for a long +time were singing again in the trees, and it was not raining. So he +went down the road to play in Minda's yard. He called to her, but +she did not appear. No one appeared. The house was silent. "Auntie" +Rachel was not there. Even the dogs were gone, and Mr. Carter's +horses and his wagon. He could not understand. Only yesterday he +had played in the barn with Minda. + +Then his grandma came hurrying through the trees from his own home, +where she had been with grandpa and Uncle Fred and Uncle Dan since +breakfast time. She took him up in her arms and told him that Minda +was gone. He had never seen his grandma look so stern and angry. +Biddy Shay had been there all morning too, and several of the +neighbours. He wondered if it could be the Sabbath, and yet that +did not seem possible, because it was only two days since he went +to Sunday school, and yesterday his mother had done the washing. +She always washed on Monday and ironed on Tuesday. This must be +Tuesday, but maybe he was wrong about that. She was not ironing, +so it could not be Tuesday. He was very much bewildered. + +His mother was in the bedroom with grandpa and Aunt Hettie, and he +was not allowed to go in to see her. Uncle Fred and Uncle Dan were +very solemn and scowling so terribly that he was afraid to go near +them. + +He remembered that his mother had cried while she was cooking +breakfast, and sat down a great many times to rest her head on her +arms. She had cried a good deal lately, because of the headache, she +always said. And right after breakfast she had put on her bonnet +and shawl, telling him to stay in the house till she came back +from grandpa's. Then she had gone away, leaving him all alone until +Biddy Shay came, all out of breath, and began to clear the table +and wash the dishes, all the while talking to herself in a way that +he was sure God would not like, and probably would send her to the +bad place for it when she died. + +After a while all of the men went out to the barn-lot, where their +horses were tethered. Uncle Fred and Uncle Dan had their rifles. +He stood at the kitchen window and watched them with wide, excited +eyes. Were they going off to kill Indians, or bears, or cattymunks? +They all talked at once, especially his uncles,--and they swore, +too. Then his grandpa stood in front of them and spoke very loudly, +pointing his finger at them. He heard him say, over and over again: + +"Let them go, I say! I tell you, let them go!" + +He wondered why his father was not there, if there was any fighting +to be done. His father was a great fighter. He was the bestest shot +in all the world. He could kill an Injin a million miles away, or +a squirrel, or a groundhog. So he asked Biddy Shay. + +"Ast me no questions and I'll tell ye no lies," was all the answer +he got from Biddy. + +The next day he went up to grandpa's with his mother to stay, and +Uncle Fred told him that his pa had gone off to the war. He believed +this, for were not the rifle, the powder horn and the shot flask +missing from the pegs over the fireplace, and was not Bob, the very +fastest horse in all the world, gone from the barn? He was vastly +thrilled. His father would shoot millions and millions of Injins, +and they would have a house full of scalps and tommyhawks and bows +and arrers. + +But he was troubled about Minda. Uncle Fred, driven to corner by +persistent inquiry, finally confessed that Minda also had gone to +the war, and at last report had killed several extremely ferocious +redskins. Despite this very notable achievement, Kenneth was troubled. +In the first place, Minda was a baby, and always screamed when she +heard a gun go off; in the second place, she always fell down when +she tried to run and squalled like everything if he did not wait +for her; in the third place, Injins always beat little girls' heads +off against a tree if they caught 'em. + +Moreover, Uncle Dan, upon being consulted, declared that a +good-sized Injin could swaller Minda in one gulp if he happened to +be 'specially hungry,--or in a hurry. Uncle Dan also appeared to +be very much surprised when he heard that she had gone off to the +war. He said that Uncle Fred ought to be ashamed of himself; and +the next time he asked Uncle Fred about Minda he was considerably +relieved to hear that his little playmate had given up fighting +altogether and was living quite peaceably in a house made of a +pumpkin over yonder where the sun went down at night. + +It was not until sometime after his mother went away,--after the +long-to-be-remembered "fooneral," with its hymns, and weeping, and +praying,--that he heard the grown-ups talking about the war being +over. The redcoats were thrashed and there was much boasting and +bragging among the men of the settlement. Strange men appeared on +the street, and other men slapped their backs and shook hands with +them and shouted loudly and happily at them. In time, he came to +understand that these were the citizens who had gone off to fight +in the war and were now home again, all safe and sound. He began +to watch for his father. He would know him a million miles off, he +was so big, and he had the biggest rifle in the world. + +"Do you s'pose Pa will know how to find me, grandma?" he would +inquire. "'Cause, you see, I don't live where I used to." + +And his grandmother, beset with this and similar questions from +one day's end to the other, would become very busy over what she +was doing at the time and tell him not to pester her. He did not +like to ask his grandfather. He was so stern,--even when he was +sitting all alone on the porch and was not busy at all. + +Then one day he saw his grandparents talking together on the porch. +Aunt Hettie was with them, but she was not talking. She was just +looking at him as he played down by the watering trough. He distinctly +heard his grandma say: + +"I think he ought to be told, Richard. It's a sin to let him go +on thinking---" The rest of the sentence was lost to him when she +suddenly lowered her voice. They were all looking at him. + +Presently his grandfather called to him, and beckoned with his +finger. He marched up to the porch with his little bow and arrow. +Grandma turned to go into the house, and Aunt Hettie hurried away. + +"Don't be afraid, Granny," he sang out. "I won't shoot you. 'Sides, +I've only got one arrer, Aunt Hettie." + +His grandfather took him on his knee, and then and there told him +the truth about his father. He spoke very slowly and did not say +any of those great big words that he always used when he was with +grown-up people, or even with the darkies. + +"Now, pay strict attention, Kenneth. You must understand everything I +say to you. Do you hear? Your father is never coming home. We told +you he had gone to the war. We thought it was best to let you think +so. It is time for you to know the truth. You are always asking +questions about him. After this, when you want to know about your +father, you must come to me. I will tell you. Do not bother your +grandma. You make her unhappy when you ask questions. You see, your +Ma was once her little girl and mine. She used to be as little as +you are. Your Pa was her husband. You know what a husband is, don't +you?" + +"Yes, sir," said Kenneth, wide-eyed. "It's a boy's father." + +"You are nearly six years old. Quite a man, my lad." He paused to +look searchingly into the child's face, his bushy eyebrows meeting +in a frown. + +"The devil of it is," he burst out, "you are the living image of +your father. You are going to grow up to look like him." He groaned +audibly, spat viciously over his shoulder, and went on in a strange, +hard voice. "Do you know what it is to steal? It means taking +something that belongs to somebody else." + +"Yes, sir. 'Thou shalt not steal.' It's in the Bible." + +"Well, you know that Indians and gipsies steal little boys, don't +you? It is the very worst kind of stealing, because it breaks the +boy's mother's heart. It sometimes kills them. Now, suppose that +somebody stole a husband. A husband is a boy's father, as you say. +Your father was a husband. He was your dear mother's husband. You +loved your mother very, very much, didn't you? Don't cry, lad,--there, +there, now! Be a little man. Now, listen. Somebody stole your +mother's husband. She loved him better than anything in the world. +She loved him, I guess, even better than she loved you, Kenneth. +She just couldn't live without him. Do you see? That is why she +died and went away. She is in Heaven now. Now, let me hear you say +this after me: My mother died because somebody stole her husband +away from her." + +"'My mother died because somebody stoled her husband away from +her,'" repeated the boy, slowly. + +"You will never forget that, will you?" + +"No,--sir." + +"Say this: My mother's heart was broken and so she died." + +"'My mother's heart was broken and she--and so she died.'" + +"You will never forget that either, will you, Kenneth?" + +"No, sir." + +"Now, I am going to tell you who stole your mother's husband away +from her. You know who your mother's husband was, don't you?" + +"Yes, sir. My Pa." + +"One night,--the night before you came up here to live--your Auntie +Rachel,--that is what you called her, isn't it? Well, she was not +your real aunt. She was your neighbour,--just as Mr. Collins over +there is my neighbour,--and she was your mother's friend. Well, +that night she stole your Pa from your Ma, and took him away with +her,--far, far away, and she never let him come back again. She +took him away in the night, away from your mother and you forever +and forever. She---" + +"But Pa was bigger'n she was," interrupted Kenneth, frowning. "Why +didn't he kill her and get away?" + +The old Squire was silent for a moment. "It is not fair for me to +put all the blame on Rachel Carter. Your father was willing to go. +He did not kill Rachel Carter. Together he and Rachel Carter killed +your mother. But Rachel Carter was more guilty than he was. She was +a woman and she stole what belonged in the sight of God to another +woman. She was a bad woman. If she had been a good woman she would +not have stolen your father away from your mother. So now you know +that your Pa did not go to the war. He went away with Rachel Carter +and left your mother to die of a broken heart. He went off into +the wilderness with that bad, evil woman. Your mother was unhappy. +She died. She is under the ground up in the graveyard, all alone. +Rachel Carter put her there, Kenneth. I cannot ask you to hate +your father. It would not be right. He is your father in spite of +everything. You know what the Good Book says? 'Honour thy father +and--' how does the rest of it go, my lad?" + +"'Honour thy father and thy mother that thou days may be long upon +thou earth,'" murmured Kenneth, bravely. + +"When you are a little older you will realize that your father did +not honour his father and mother, and then you may understand more +than you do now. But you may hate Rachel Carter. You MUST hate her. +She killed your mother. She stole your father. She made an orphan +of you. She destroyed the home where you used to live. As you +grow older I will try to tell you how she did all these things. +You would not understand now. There is one of the Ten Commandments +that you do not understand,--I mean one in particular. It is enough +for you to know the meaning of the one that says 'Thou shalt not +steal.' You must not be unhappy over what I have told you. Everything +will be all right with you. You will be safe here with granny and +me. But you must no longer believe that your father went to the +war like other men in the village. If he were MY son, I would---" + +"Don't say it, Richard," cried Kenneth's grandma, from the doorway +behind them. "Don't ever say that to him." + + + + +CHAPTER I + +SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT + + +Night was falling as two horsemen drew rein in front of a cabin +at the edge of a clearing in the far-reaching sombre forest. +Their approach across the stump-strewn tract had been heralded by +the barking of dogs,--two bristling beasts that came out upon the +muddy, deep-rutted road to greet them with furious inhospitality. +A man stood partially revealed in the doorway. His left arm and +shoulder were screened from view by the jamb, his head was bent +forward as he peered intently through narrowed eyes at the strangers +in the road. + +"Who are you, and what do you want?" he called out. + +"Friends. How far is it to the tavern at Clark's Point?" + +"Clark's Point is three miles back," replied the settler. "I guess +you must have passed it without seein' it," he added drily. "If +it happened to be rainin' when you come through you'd have missed +seein' it fer the raindrops. Where you bound fer?" + +"Lafayette. I guess we're off the right road. We took the left turn +four or five miles back." + +"You'd ought to have kept straight on. Come 'ere, Shep! You, Pete! +Down with ye!" + +The two dogs, still bristling, slunk off in the direction of the +squat log barn. A woman appeared behind the man and stared out +over his shoulder. From the tall stone chimney at the back of the +cabin rose the blue smoke of the kitchen fire, to be whirled away +on the wind that was guiding the storm out of the rumbling north. +There was a dull, wavering glow in the room behind her. At one of +the two small windows gleamed a candle-light. + +"What's takin' you to Clark's Point? There ain't no tavern there. +There ain't nothin' there but a hitch-post and a waterin'-trough. +Oh, yes, I forgot. Right behind the hitch-post is Jake Stone's +store and a couple of ash-hoppers and a town-hall, but you wouldn't +notice 'em if you happened to be on the wrong side of the post. +Mebby it's Middleton you're lookin' fer." + +"I am looking for a place to put up for the night, friend. We met +a man back yonder, half an hour ago, who said the nearest tavern +was at Clark's Point." + +"What fer sort of lookin' man was he?" + +"Tall fellow with red whiskers, riding a grey horse." + +"That was Jake Stone hisself. Beats all how that feller tries to +advertise his town. He says it beats Crawfordsville and Lafayette +all to smash, an' it's only three or four months old. Which way +was he goin'?" + +"I suppose you'd call it south. I've lost my bearings, you see." + +"That's it. He was on his way down to Attica to get drunk. They +say Attica's goin' to be the biggest town on the Wabash. Did I ask +you what your name was, stranger?" + +"My name is Gwynne. I left Crawfordsville this morning, hoping to +reach Lafayette before night. But the road is so heavy we couldn't---" + +"Been rainin' steady for nearly two weeks," interrupted the settler. +"Hub-deep everywhere. It's a good twenty-five or thirty mile from +Crawfordsville to Lafayette. Looks like more rain, too. I think +she'll be on us in about two minutes. I guess mebby we c'n find a +place fer you to sleep to-night, and we c'n give you somethin' fer +man an' beast. If you'll jest ride around here to the barn, we'll +put the hosses up an' feed 'em, and--Eliza, set out a couple more +plates, an' double the rations all around." His left arm and hand +came into view. "Set this here gun back in the corner, Eliza. I +guess I ain't goin' to need it. Gimme my hat, too, will ye?" + +As the woman drew back from the door, a third figure came up behind +the man and took her place. The horseman down at the roadside, +fifty feet away, made out the figure of a woman. She touched the +man's arm and he turned as he was in the act of stepping down from +the door-log. She spoke to him in a low voice that failed to reach +the ears of the travellers. + +The man shook his head slowly, and then called out: + +"I didn't jist ketch your name, mister. The wind's makin' such a +noise I--Say it again, will ye?" + +"My name is Kenneth Gwynne. Get it?" shouted the horseman. "And +this is my servant, Zachariah." + +The man in the door bent his head, without taking his eyes from the +horseman, while the woman murmured something in his ear, something +that caused him to straighten up suddenly. + +"Where do you come from?" he inquired, after a moment's hesitation. + +"My home is in Kentucky. I live at---" + +"Kentucky, eh? Well, that's a good place to come from. I guess +you're all right, stranger." He turned to speak to his companion. +A few words passed between them, and then she drew back into +the room. The woman called Eliza came up with the man's hat and a +lighted lantern. She closed the door after him as he stepped out +into the yard. + +"'Round this way," he called out, making off toward the corner of +the cabin. "Don't mind the dogs. They won't bite, long as I'm here." + +The wind was wailing through the stripped trees behind the +house,--a sombre, limitless wall of trees that seemed to close in +with smothering relentlessness about the lonely cabin and its raw +field of stumps. The angry, low-lying clouds and the hastening +dusk of an early April day had by this time cast the gloom of +semi-darkness over the scene. Spasmodic bursts of lightning laid +thin dull, unearthly flares upon the desolate land, and the rumble +of apple-carts filled the ear with promise of disaster. The chickens +had gone to roost; several cows, confined in a pen surrounded by the +customary stockade of poles driven deep into the earth and lashed +together with the bark of the sturdy elm, were huddled in front of +a rude shed; a number of squealing, grunting pigs nosed the cracks +in the rail fence that formed still another pen; three or four pompous +turkey gobblers strutted unhurriedly about the barnlot, while some +of their less theatrical hens perched stiffly, watchfully on the +sides of a clumsy wagon-bed over against the barn. Martins and +chimney-swallows darted above the cabin and out-buildings, swirling +in mad circles, dipping and careening with incredible swiftness. + +The gaunt settler conducted the unexpected guests to the barn, +where, after they had dismounted, he assisted in the removal of +the well-filled saddle-bags and rolls from the backs of their jaded +horses. + +"Water?" he inquired briefly. + +"No, suh," replied Zachariah, blinking as the other held the +lantern up the better to look into his face. Zachariah was a young +negro,--as black as night, with gleaming white teeth which he +revealed in a broad and friendly grin. "Had all dey could drink, +Marster, back yander at de crick." + +"You couldn't have forded the Wea this time last week," said the +host, addressing Gwynne. "She's gone down considerable the last +four-five days. Out of the banks last week an' runnin' all over +creation." + +"Still pretty high," remarked the other. "Came near to sweeping +Zack's mare downstream but--well, she made it and Zack has turned +black again." + +The settler raised his lantern again at the stable door and looked +dubiously at the negro. + +"You're from Kentucky, Mr. Gwynne," he said, frowning. "I got to +tell you right here an' now that if this here boy is a slave, you +can't stop here,--an' what's more, you can't stay in this county. +We settled the slavery question in this state quite a spell back, +an' we make it purty hot for people who try to smuggle niggers +across the border. I got to ask you plain an' straight; is this +boy a slave?" + +"He is not," replied Gwynne. "He is a free man. If he elects to +leave my service to-morrow, he is at liberty to go. My grandfather +freed all of his slaves shortly before he died, and that was when +Zachariah here was not more than fifteen years of age. He is as +free as I am,--or you, sir. He is my servant, not my slave. I know +the laws of this state, and I intend to abide by them. I expect +to make my home here in Indiana,--in Lafayette, as a matter of +fact. This boy's name is Zachariah Button. Ten years ago he was a +slave. He has with him, sir, the proper credentials to support my +statement,--and his, if he chooses to make one. On at least a dozen +occasions, first in Ohio and then in Indiana, I have been obliged +to convince official and unofficial inquirers that my--" + +"That's all right, Mr. Gwynne," cried the settler heartily. "I take +your word for it. If you say he's not a slave, why, he ain't, so +that's the end of it. And it ain't necessary for Zachariah to swear +to it, neither. We can't offer you much in the way of entertainment, +Mr. Gwynne, but what we've got you're welcome to. I came to this +country from Ohio seven years ago, an' I learned a whole lot about +hospitality durin' the journey. I learned how to treat a stranger +in a strange land fer one thing, an' I learned that even a hoss-thief +ain't an ongrateful cuss if you give him a night's lodgin' and a +meal or two." + +"I shall be greatly indebted to you, sir. The time will surely +come when I may repay you,--not in money, but in friendship. Pray +do not let us discommode you or your household. I will be satisfied +to sleep on the floor or in the barn, and as for Zachariah, he--" + +"The barn is for the hosses to sleep in," interrupted the host, +"and the floor is for the cat. 'Tain't my idee of fairness to allow +human bein's to squat on proppety that rightfully belongs to hosses +an' cats,--so I guess you'll have to sleep in a bed, Mr. Gwynne." +He spoke with a drawl. "Zachariah c'n spread his blankets on the +kitchen floor an' make out somehow. Now, if you'll jist step over +to the well yander, you'll find a wash pan. Eliza,--I mean Mrs. +Striker,--will give you a towel when you're ready. Jest sing out +to her. Here, you, Zachariah, carry this plunder over an' put it +in the kitchen. Mrs. Striker will show you. Be careful of them +rifles of your'n. They go off mighty sudden if you stub your toe. +You'll find a comb and lookin' glass in the settin' room, Mr. Gwynne. +You'll probably want to put a few extry touches on yourself when +I tell you there's an all-fired purty girl spendin' the night with +us. Go along, now. I'll put the feed down fer your hosses an' be +with you in less'n no time." + +"You are very kind, Mr.--Did you say Striker?" + +"Phineas Striker, sir,--Phin fer short." + +"I am prepared and amply able to pay for lodging and food, Mr. +Striker, so do not hesitate to--" + +"Save your breath, stranger. I'm as deef as a post. The storm's +goin' to bust in two shakes of a dead lamb's tail, so you'd better +be a leetle spry if you want to git inside afore she comes." + +With that he entered the barn door, leading the horses. Gwynne and +his servant hurried through the darkness toward the light in the +kitchen window. The former rapped politely on the door. It was +opened by Mrs. Striker, a tall, comely woman well under thirty, +who favoured the good-looking stranger with a direct and smileless +stare. He removed his tall, sorry-looking beaver. + +"Madam, your husband has instructed my servant to leave our belongings +in your kitchen. I fear they are not overly clean, what with mud +and rain, devil-needles and burrs. Your kitchen is as clean as a +pin. Shall I instruct him to return with them to the barn and--" + +"Bring them in," she said, melting in spite of herself as she looked +down from the doorstep into his dark, smiling eyes. His strong, +tanned face was beardless, his teeth were white, his abundant brown +hair tousled and boyishly awry,--and there were mud splashes on +his cheek and chin. He was tall and straight and his figure was +shapely, despite the thick blue cape that hung from his shoulders. +"I guess they ain't any dirtier than Phin Striker's boots are +this time o' the year. Put them over here, boy, 'longside o' that +cupboard. Supper'll be ready in ten or fifteen minutes, Mr. Gwynne." + +His smile broadened. He sniffed gratefully. A far more exacting +woman than Eliza Striker would have forgiven this lack of dignity +on his part. + +"You will find me ready for it, Mrs. Striker. The smell of side-meat +goes straight to my heart, and nothing in all this world could be +more wonderful than the coffee you are making." + +"Go 'long with you!" she cried, vastly pleased, and turned to her +sizzling skillets. + +Zachariah deposited the saddle-bags and rolls in the corner and then +returned to the door where he received the long blue cape, gloves +and the towering beaver from his master's hands. He also received +instructions which sent him back to open a bulging saddle-bag and +remove therefrom a pair of soft, almost satiny calf-skin boots. As +he hurried past Mrs. Striker, he held them up for her inspection, +grinning from ear to ear. She gazed in astonishment at the white +and silver ornamented tops, such as were affected by only the most +fastidious dandies of the day and were so rarely seen in this raw, +new land that the beholder could scarce believe her eyes. + +"Well, I never!" she exclaimed, and then went to the sitting-room +to whisper excitedly to the solitary occupant, who, it so chanced, +was at the moment busily and hastily employed in rearranging her +brown, wind-blown hair before the round-topped little looking-glass +over the fireplace. + +"I thought you said you wasn't goin' to see him," observed Mrs. +Striker, after imparting her information. "If you ain't, what are +you fixin' yourself up fer?" + +"I have changed my mind, Eliza," said the young lady, loftily. "In +the first place, I am hungry, and in the second place it would not +be right for me to put you to any further trouble about supper. +I shall have supper with the rest of you and not in the bedroom, +after all. How does my hair look?" + +"You've got the purtiest hair in all the--" + +"How does it look?" + +"It would look fine if you NEVER combed it. If I had hair like +your'n, I'd be the proudest woman in--" + +"Don't be silly. It's terrible, most of the time." + +"Well, it's spick an' span now, if that's what you want to know," +grumbled Eliza, and vanished, fingering her straight, straw-coloured +hair somewhat resentfully. + +Meanwhile, Kenneth Gwynne, having divested himself of his dark +blue "swallow-tail," was washing his face and hands at the well. +The settler approached with the lantern. + +"She's comin'," he shouted above the howling wind. "I guess you'd +better dry yourself in the kitchen. Hear her whizzin' through the +trees? Gosh all hemlock! She's goin' to be a snorter, stranger. +Hurry inside!" + +They bolted for the door and dashed into the kitchen just as the +deluge came. Phineas Striker, leaning his weight against the door, +closed it and dropped the bolt. + +"Whew! She's a reg'lar harricane, that's what she is. Mighty +suddent, too. Been holdin' back fer ten minutes,--an' now she lets +loose with all she's got. Gosh! Jest listen to her!" + +The hiss of the torrent on the clapboard roof was deafening, the +little window panes were streaming; a dark, glistening shadow crept +out from the bottom of the door and began to spread; the howling +wind shook the very walls of the staunch cabin, while all about +them roared the ear-splitting cannonade, the crash of splintered +skies, the crackling of musketry, the rending and tearing of all +the garments that clothe the universe. + +Eliza Striker, hardy frontierswoman though she was, put her fingers to +her ears and shrank away from the stove,--for she had been taught +that all metal "drew lightning." Her husband busied himself stemming +the stream of water that seeped beneath the door with empty grain +or coffee bags, snatched from the top of a cupboard where they +were stored, evidently for the very purpose to which they were now +being put. + +Gwynne stood coatless in the centre of the kitchen, rolling down +his white shirt-sleeves. Behind him cringed Zachariah, holding his +master's boots and coat in his shaking hands, his eyes rolling with +terror, his lips mumbling an unheard appeal for mercy. + +The sitting-room door opened suddenly and the other guest of the +house glided into the kitchen. Her eyes were crinkled up as if +with an almost unendurable pain, her fingers were pressed to her +temples, her red lips were parted. + +"Goodness!" she gasped, with a hysterical laugh, not born of mirth, +nor of courage, but of the sheerest dismay. + +"Don't be skeered," cried Phineas, looking at her over his +shoulder. "She'll soon be over. Long as the roof stays on, we're +all right,--an' I guess she'll stay." + +Kenneth Gwynne bowed very low to the newcomer. The dim candle-light +afforded him a most unsatisfactory glimpse of her features. He +took in at a glance, however, her tall, trim figure, the burnished +crown of hair, and the surprisingly modish frock she wore. He had +seen no other like it since leaving the older, more advanced towns +along the Ohio,--not even in the thriving settlements of Wayne and +Madison Counties or in the boastful village of Crawfordsville. He +was startled. In all his journeyings through the land he had seen +no one arrayed like this. It was with difficulty that he overcame +a quite natural impulse to stare at her as if she were some fantastic +curiosity. + +The contrast between this surprising creature and the gingham +aproned Eliza was unbelievable. There was but one explanation: She +was the mistress of the house, Eliza the servant. And yet, even +so, how strangely out-of-place, out-of-keeping she was here in the +wilderness. + +In some confusion he strode over to lend a hand to Phineas Striker. +The rustle of silk behind him and the quick clatter of heels, +evidenced the fact that the girl had crossed swiftly to Eliza's +side. + +Later on he had the opportunity to take in all the details of her +costume, and he did so with a practised, sophisticated eye. It was, +after all, of a fashion two years old, evidence of the slowness +with which the modes reached these outposts of civilization. Here +was a perfect fitting blue frock of the then popular changeable +gros de zane, the skirt very wide, set on the body in large plaits, +one in front, one on each side and two behind. The sleeves also +were wide from shoulder to elbow, where they were tightly fitted +to the lower arm. The ruffles around the neck, which was open and +rather low, and about the wrists were of plain bobinet quilling. +Her slippers were black, with cross-straps. He had seen such frocks +as this, he was reminded, in fashionable Richmond and New York +only a year or so before, but nowhere in the west. Add a Dunstable +straw bonnet with its strings of satin and the frilled pelerine, and +this strange young woman might have just stepped from her carriage +in the most fashionable avenue in the land. + +Zachariah, lacking his master's good manners, gazed in open-mouthed +wonder at the lady, forgetting for the moment his fear of the +tempest's wrath. Only the most hair-raising crash of thunder broke +the spell, causing him to close his eyes and resume his supplication. + +"Now's your chance to get at the lookin' glass, Mr. Gwynne," said +Striker. "Right there in the sittin'-room. Go ahead; I'll manage +this." + +Muttering a word of thanks, the young man turned to leave the room. +He shot a glance at his fellow guest. Her back was toward him, she +had her hands to her ears, and something told him that her eyes +were tightly closed. A particularly loud crash caused her to draw +her pretty shoulders up as if to receive the death-dealing bolt of +lightning. He heard her murmur again: + +"Goodness--gracious!" + +Eliza suddenly put an arm about her waist and drew the slender, +shivering figure close. As the girl buried her face upon the older +woman's shoulder, the latter cried out: + +"Land sakes, child, you'll never get over bein' a baby, will ye?" + +To which Phineas Striker added in a great voice: "Nor you, neither, +Eliza. Ef we didn't have company here you'd be crawlin' under the +table or something. She ain't afraid of wild cats or rattlesnakes +or Injins or even spiders," he went on, addressing Gwynne, "but +she's skeered to death of lightnin'. An' as fer that young lady +there, she wouldn't be afeared to walk from here to Lafayette all +alone on the darkest night,--an' look at her now! Skeered out of +her boots by a triflin' little thunderstorm. Why, I wouldn't give +two--" + +"My goodness, Phin Striker," broke in his wife, a new note of alarm +in her voice, "I do hope them chickens an' turkeys have got sense +enough to get under something in this downpour. If they ain't, the +whole kit an' boodle of 'em will be drownded, sure as--" + +"I never yet see a hen that liked water," interrupted Phineas. "Er +a turkey either. Don't you worry about 'em. You better worry about +that side-meat you're fryin'. Ef my nose is what it ort to be, I'd +say that piece o' meat was bein' burnt to death,--an' that's a lot +wuss than bein' drownded. They say drowndin' is the easiest death--" + +"You men clear out o' this kitchen," snapped Eliza. "Out with ye! +You too, Phin Striker. I'll call ye when the table's set. Now, you +go an' set over there in the corner, away from the window, deary, +where the lightnin' can't git at you, an'--You'll find a comb on +the mantel-piece, Mr. Gwynne, an' Phineas will git you a boot-jack +out o' the bedroom if that darkey is too weak to pull your boots +off for you. Don't any of you go trampin' all over the room with +your muddy boots. I've got work enough to do without scrubbin' +floors after a pack of--My land! I do believe it's scorched. An' +the corn-bread must be--" + +Phineas, after a doubtful look at the stopped-up door-crack, led +the way into the sitting-room. Zachariah came last with his master's +boots and coat. He was mumbling with suppressed fervour: + +"Oh, Lord, jes' lemme hab one mo' chaince,--jes' one mo' chaince. +Good Lord! I been a wicked, ornery nigger,--only jes' gimme jes' +one mo' chaince. I been a wicked,--Yassuh, Marster Kenneth, I got +your boots. Yassuh. Right heah, suh. Oh, Lordy-Lordy! Yassuh, +yassuh!" + +Seated in a big wooden rocker before the fireplace, Gwynne stretched +out his long legs one after the other; Zachariah tugged at the +heavy, mud-caked riding-boots, grunting mightily over a task that +gave him sufficient excuse for interjecting sundry irrelevant appeals +for mercy and an occasional reference to his own unworthiness as +a nigger. + +The tempest continued with unabated violence. The big, raw-boned +Striker, pulling nervously at his beard, stood near a window +which looked out upon the barn and sheds, plainly revealed in the +blinding, almost uninterrupted flashes of lightning. Such sentences +as these fell from his lips as he turned his face from the bleaching +flares before they ended in mighty crashes: "That struck powerful +nigh,"--or "I seen that one runnin' along the ground like a ball +of fire," or "There goes somethin' near," or "That was a tree jest +back o' the barn, you'll see in the mornin'." + +"Dere won't never be any mo'nin'," gulped the unhappy Zachariah, +bending lower to his task, which now had to do with the boot-straps +at the bottoms of his master's trouser-legs. Getting to his feet, +he proceeded, with a well-trained dexterity that even his terror +failed to divert, to draw on the immaculate calf-skin boots with +the gorgeous tops. Then he pulled the trouser-legs down over the +boots, obscuring their upper glory; after which he smoothed out the +wrinkles and fastened the instep straps. Whereupon, Kenneth arose, +stamped severely on the hearth several times to settle his feet +in the snug-fitting boots, and turned to the looking-glass. He was +wielding the comb with extreme care and precision when his host +turned from the window and approached. + +"Seems to me you're goin' to a heap o' trouble, friend," he remarked, +surveying the tall, graceful figure with a rather disdainful eye. +"We don't dress up much in these parts, 'cept on Sunday." + +"Please do not consider me vain," said the young man, flushing. He +smarted under the implied rebuke,--in fact, he was uncomfortably +aware of ridicule. "My riding-boots were filthy. I--I--Yes, I know," +he broke in upon himself as Phineas extended one of his own muddy +boots for inspection. "I know, but, you see, I am the unbidden +guest of yourself and Mrs. Striker. The least I can do in return +for your hospitality is to make myself presentable--" + +"You'll have to excuse my grinnin', Mr. Gwynne," interrupted the +other. "I didn't mean any offence. It's jest that we ain't used to +good clothes an' servants to pull our boots off an' on, an'--butternut +pants an' so on. We're 'way out here on the edge of the wilderness +where bluejeans is as good as broadcloth or doe-skin, an' a chaw +of tobacco is as good as the state seal fer bindin' a bargain. Lord +bless ye, I don't keer how much you dress up. I guess I might as +well tell ye the only men up at Lafayette who wear as good clothes +as you do are a couple of gamblers that work up an' down the river, +an' Barry Lapelle. I reckon you've heerd of Barry Lapelle. He's +known from one end of the state to the other, an' over in Ohio an' +Kentucky too." + +"I have never heard of him." + +Striker looked surprised. He glanced at the closed sitting-room +door before continuing. + +"Well, he owns a couple steamboats that come up the river. Got 'em +when his father died a couple o' years ago. His home used to be in +Terry Hut, but he's been livin' at Bob Johnson's tavern for a matter +of six months now, workin' up trade fer his boats, I understand. +He's as wild as a hawk an'--but you'll run across him if you're +goin' to live in Lafayette." + +"By the way, what is the population of Lafayette?" + +Phineas studied the board ceiling thoughtfully for a moment or two. +"Well, 'cordin' to people who live in Attica she's got about five +hundred. People who live in Crawfordsville give her seven hundred. +Down at Covington an' Williamsport they say she's got about four +hundred an' twelve. When you git to Lafayette Bob Johnson an' the +rest of 'em will tell you she's over two thousand an' growin' so +fast they cain't keep track of her. There's so much lyin' goin' on +about Lafayette that it's impossible to tell jest how big she is. +Countin' in the dogs, I guess she must have a population of between +six hundred and fifty an' three thousand. You see, everybody up +there's got a dog, an' some of 'em two er three. One feller I know +has got seven. But, on the whole, I guess you'll like the place. +It's the head of navigation at high water, an' if they ever build +the Wabash an' Erie Canal they're talkin' about she'll be a regular +seaport, like New York er Boston. 'Pears to me the worst is over, +don't you reckon so?" + +Kenneth, having adjusted his stock and white roll-over collar to +suit his most exacting eye, slipped his arms into the coat Zachariah +was holding for him, settled the shoulders with a shrug or two and +a pull at the flaring lapels, smoothed his yellow brocaded waist-coat +carefully, and then, spreading his long, shapely legs and at the +same time the tails of his coat, took a commanding position with +his back to the blazing logs. + +"Are you referring to my toilet, Mr. Striker?" he inquired amiably. + +"I was talkin' about the storm," explained Phineas hastily. "Take +the boots out to the kitchen, Zachariah. Eliza'll git into your wool +if she ketches you leavin' 'em in here. Yes, sir, she's certainly +lettin' up. Goin' down the river hell-bent. They'll be gettin' her +at Attica 'fore long. Are you plannin' to work the farm yourself, +Mr. Gwynne, or are you goin' to sell er rent on shares?" + +Gwynne looked at him in surprise. "You appear to know who I am, +after all, Mr. Striker." + +Striker grinned. "I guess everybody in this neck o' the woods has +heerd about you. Dan Bugher,--he's the county recorder,--an' Rube +Kelsey, John Bishop, Larry Stockton, an' a lot more of the folks +up in town, have been lookin' down the Crawfordsville road fer you +ever since your father died last August. You 'pear to be a very +important cuss fer one who ain't never set foot in Indianny before." + +"I see," said the other reflectively. "Were you acquainted with my +father, Mr. Striker?" + +"Much so as anybody could be. He wasn't much of a hand fer makin' +friends. Stuck purty close to the farm, an' made it about the best +piece o' propetty in the whole valley. I was jest wonderin' whether +you was plannin' to live on the farm er up in town." + +"Well, you see, I am a lawyer by profession. I know little or +nothing about farming. My plans are not actually made, however. +A great deal depends on how I find things. Judge Wylie wishes me +to enter into partnership with him, and Providence M. Curry says +there is a splendid chance for me in his office at Crawfordsville. +I shall do nothing until I have gone thoroughly into the matter. +You know the farm, Mr. Striker?" + +"Yes. It's not far from here,--five or six mile, I'd say, to +the north an' east. Takes in some of the finest land on the Wea +Plain,--mostly clear, some fine timber, plenty of water, an' about +the best stocked farm anywheres around. Your father was one of the +first to edge up this way ten er twelve year ago, an' he got the +pick o' the new land. He came from some'eres down the river, 'bout +Vincennes er Montezuma er some such place. I reckon you know that +he left another passel of land over this way, close to the Wabash, +an' some propetty up in Lafayette an' some more down in Crawfordsville." + +"I have been so informed," said his guest, rather shortly. + +"I bought this sixty acre piece offen him two year ago. All timber +when I took hold of it, 'cept seventeen acres out thataway," jerking +his thumb, "along the Middleton road." He hesitated a moment. "You +see, I worked for your father fer a considerable time, as a hand. +That's how he came to sell to me. I got married an' wanted a place of +my own. He said he'd sooner sell to me than let some other feller +cheat the eye-teeth outen me, me bein' a good deal of fool when +it comes to business an' all. Yep, I'd saved up a few dollars, so +I sez what's the sense of me workin' my gizzard out fer somebody +else an' all that, when land's so cheap an' life so doggoned short. +'Course, there's a small mortgage on the place, but I c'n take keer +of that, I reckon." + +"Ahem! The mortgage, I fancy, is held by--er--the other heirs to +his property." "You're right. His widder holds it, but she ain't +the kind to press me. She's purty comfortable, what with this land +along the edge o' the plain out here an' a whole section up in the +Grand Prairie neighbourhood, besides half a dozen buildin' lots +in town an' a two story house to live in up there. To say nothin' +of--" + +"Come to supper," called out Mrs. Striker from the doorway. + +"That's somethin' I'm always ready fer," announced Mr. Striker. +"Winter an' summer, spring an' fall. Step right ahead, Mr.--" + +"Just a moment, if you please," said the young man, laying his hand +on the settler's arm. "You will do me a great favour if you refrain +from discussing these matters in the presence of your other +guest to-night. My father, as you doubtless know, meant very +little in my life. I prefer not to discuss him in the presence of +strangers,--especially curious-minded young women." + +Phineas looked at him narrowly for an instant, a queer expression +lurking in his eyes. + +"Jest as you say, Mr. Gwynne. Not a word in front of strangers. I +don't know as you know it, but up to the time your father's will +was perduced there wasn't a soul in these parts as knowed such a +feller as you wuz on earth. He never spoke of a son, er havin' been +married before, er bein' a widower, er anything like--" + +"I am thoroughly convinced of that, Mr. Striker," said Kenneth, a +trifle austerely, and passed on ahead of his host into the kitchen. + +"Bring in them two candlesticks, Phin," ordered Mrs. Striker. "We +got to be able to see what each other looks like, an' goodness knows +we cain't with this taller dip I got out here to cook by. 'Tain't +often we have people right out o' the fashion-plates to supper, so +let's have all the light we kin." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STRANGE YOUNG WOMAN + + +The tempest by now had subsided to a distant, rumbling murmur, +although the rain still beat against the window-panes in fitful +gusts, the while it gently played the long roll on the clapboards +a scant two feet above the tallest head. Far-off flashes of lightning +cast ghastly reminders athwart the windows, fighting the yellow +candle glow with a sickly, livid glare. + +Kenneth's fellow-guest was standing near the stove, her back toward +him as he entered the kitchen. The slant of the "ceiling" brought +the crown of her head to within a foot or so of the round, peeled +beams that supported the shed-like roof, giving her the appearance +of abnormal height. As a matter of fact, she was not as tall as +the gaunt Eliza, who, like her husband and the six-foot guest, was +obliged to lower her head when passing through the kitchen door to +the yard. + +The table was set for four, in the middle of the little kitchen; +rude hand-made stools, without backs, were in place. A figured red +cloth covered the board, its fringe of green hanging down over the +edges. The plates, saucers and coffee-cups were thick and clumsy +and gaudily decorated with indescribable flowers and vines done entirely +in green--a "set," no doubt, selected with great satisfaction in +advance of the Striker nuptials. There were black-handled case-knives, +huge four-tined forks, and pewter spoons. A blackened coffee-pot, +a brass tea-kettle and a couple of shallow skillets stood on the +square sheet-iron stove. "Come in and set down, Mr. Gwynne," said +Mrs. Striker, pointing to a stool. With the other hand she deftly +"flopped" an odorous corn-cake in one of the skillets. There was +a far from unpleasant odor of grease. + +"I can't help thanking my lucky stars, Mrs. Striker, that I got +here ahead of that storm," said he, moving over to his appointed +place, where he remained standing. "We were just in time, too. Ten +minutes later and we would have been in the thick of it. And here +we are, safe and sound and dry as toast, in the presence of a +most inviting feast. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your +kindness." + +"Oh, it's--it's nothing," said she, diffidently. Then to Striker: +"Put 'em here on the table, you big lummix. Set down, everybody." + +The young lady sat opposite Gwynne. She lowered her head immediately +as Phineas began to offer up his established form of grace. The unhappy +host got himself into a dire state of confusion when he attempted +to vary the habitual prayer by tacking on a few words appertaining +to the recent hurricane and God's goodness in preserving them all +from destruction as well as the hope that no serious damage had been +done to other live-stock and fowls, or to the life and property of +his neighbours,--amen! + +To which Zachariah, seated on a roll of blankets in the corner, +appended a heartfelt amen, and then sank back to watch his betters +eat, much as a hungry dog feasts upon anticipation. He knew that he +was to have what was left over, and he offered up a silent prayer +of his own while wistfully speculating on the prospects. + +The two colonial candlesticks stood in the centre of the table, a +foot or two apart. When Gwynne lifted his head after "grace," he +looked directly between them at his vis-a-vis. For a few seconds +he stared as if spell-bound. Then, realizing his rudeness and +conscious of an unmistakable resentment in her eyes, he felt the +blood rush to his face, and quickly turned to stammer something to +his host,--he knew not what it was. + +Never had he looked upon a face so beautiful, never had he seen +any one so lovely as this strange young woman who shared with him +the hospitality of the humble board. He had gazed for a moment full +into her deep, violet eyes,--eyes in which there was no smile but +rather a cool intentness not far removed from unfriendliness,--and +in that moment he forgot himself, his manners and his composure. + +The soft light fell upon warm, smooth cheeks; a broad, white +brow; red, sensitive lips and a perfect mouth; a round firm chin; +a delicate nose,--and the faint shadows of imperishable dimples +that even her unsmiling expression failed to disturb. + +Not even in his dreams had he conjured up a face so bewilderingly +beautiful. + +Her hair, which was puffed and waved over her ears, took on the shade +of brown spun silk on which the light played in changing tones of +bronze. It was worn high on her head, banded a la grecque, with a +small knot on the crown from which depended a number of ringlets +ornamented with bowknots. Her ears were completely hidden by the +soft mass that came down over them in shapely knobs. She wore no +earrings,--for which he was acutely grateful, although they were +the fashion of the day and cumbersomely hideous,--and her shapely +throat was barren of ornament. He judged her to be not more than +twenty-two or -three. A second furtive glance caught her looking +down at her plate. He marvelled at the long, dark eyelashes. + +Who was she? What was she doing here in the humble cot of the +Strikers? Certainly she was out of place here. She was a tender, +radiant flower set down amongst gross, unlovely weeds. That she was +a person of consequence, to whom the Strikers paid a rude sort of +deference, softened by the familiarity of long association but in +no way suggestive of relationship, he was in no manner of doubt. + +He was not slow to remark their failure to present him to her. The +omission may have been due to ignorance or uncertainty on their +part, but that was not the construction he put upon it. Striker was +the free-and-easy type who would have made these strangers known +to each other in some bluff, awkward manner,--probably by their +Christian names; he would never have overlooked this little formality, +no matter how clumsily he may have gone about performing it. It +was perfectly plain to Gwynne that it was not an oversight. It was +deliberate. + +His slight feeling of embarrassment, and perhaps annoyance, evidently +was not shared by the young lady; so far as she was concerned the +situation was by no means strained. She was as calm and serene and +impervious as a princess royal. + +She joined in the conversation, addressed herself to him without +constraint, smiled amiably (and adorably) upon the busy Eliza and +her jovial spouse, and even laughed aloud over the latter's account +of Zachariah and the silver-top boots. Gwynne remarked that it was +a soft, musical laugh, singularly free from the shrill, boisterous +qualities so characteristic of the backwoods-woman. She possessed +the poise of refinement. He had seen her counterpart,--barring +her radiant beauty,--many a time during his years in the cultured +east: in Richmond, in Philadelphia, and in New York, where he had +attended college. + +He was subtly aware of the lively but carefully guarded interest she +was taking in him. He felt rather than knew that she was studying +him closely, if furtively, when his face was turned toward the +talkative host. Twice he caught her in the act of averting her gaze +when he suddenly glanced in her direction, and once he surprised +her in a very intense scrutiny,--which, he was gratified to observe, +gave way to a swift flush of confusion and the hasty lowering of +her eyes. No doubt, he surmised with some satisfaction, she was +as vastly puzzled as himself, for he must have appeared equally +out-of-place in these surroundings. His thoughts went delightedly +to the old, well-beloved story of Cinderella. Was this a Cinderella +in the flesh,--and in the morning would he find her in rags and +tatters, slaving in the kitchen? + +He noticed her hands. They were long and slim and, while browned +by exposure to wind and sun, bore no evidence of the grinding toil +to which the women and girls of the frontier were subjected. And +they were strong, competent hands, at that. + +The food was coarse, substantial, plentiful. (Even Zachariah could +see that it was plentiful.) Solid food for sturdy people. There were +potatoes fried in grease, wide strips of side meat, apple butter, +corn-cakes piping hot, boiled turnips, coffee and dried apple pie. +The smoky odor of frying grease arose from the skillets and, with +the grateful smell of coffee, permeated the tight little kitchen. +It was a savoury that consoled rather than offended the appetite +of these hardy eaters. + +Striker ate largely with his knife, and smacked his lips resoundingly; +swigged coffee from his saucer through an overlapping moustache +and afterwards hissingly strained the aforesaid obstruction with +his nether lip; talked and laughed with his mouth full,--but all +with such magnificent zest that his guests overlooked the shocking +exhibition. Indeed, the girl seemed quite accustomed to Mr. +Striker's table-habits, a circumstance which created in Kenneth's +questing mind the conviction that she was not new to these parts, +despite the garments and airs of the fastidious East. + +They were vastly interested in the account of his journey through +the wilderness. + +"Nowadays," said Striker, "most people come up the river, 'cept them +as hail from Ohio. You must ha' come by way of Wayne an' Madison +Counties." + +"I did," said his guest. "We found it fairly comfortable travelling +through Wayne County. The roads are decent enough and the settlers +are numerous. It was after we left Madison County that we encountered +hardships. We travelled for a while with a party of emigrants who +were heading for the settlement at Strawtown. There were three +families of them, including a dozen children. Our progress was +slow, as they travelled by wagon. Rumours that the Indians were +threatening to go on the warpath caused me to stay close by this +slow-moving caravan for many miles, not only for my own safety but +for the help I might be able to render them in case of an attack. +At Strawtown we learned that the Indians were peaceable and that +there was no truth in the stories. So Zachariah and I crossed the +White River at that point and struck off alone. We followed the +wilderness road,--the old Indian trace, you know,--and we travelled +nearly thirty miles without seeing a house. At Brown's Wonder we +met a party of men who had been out in this country looking things +over. They were so full of enthusiasm about the prairies around +here,--the Wea, the Wild Cat and Shawnee prairies,--that I was +quite thrilled over the prospect ahead, and no longer regretted +the journey which had been so full of privations and hardships and +which I had been so loath to undertake in the beginning. Have you +been at Thorntown recently?" + +"Nope. Not sence I came through there some years ago. It was purty +well deserted in those days. Nothin' there but Injin wigwams an' +they was mostly run to seed. At that time, Crawfordsville was the +only town to speak of between Terry Hut an' Fort Wayne, 'way up +above here." + +"Well, there are signs of a white settlement there now. Some of the +old French settlers are still there and other whites are coming in. +I had heard a great deal about the big Indian village at Thorntown, +and was vastly disappointed in what I found. I am quite romantic, +Miss--ahem!--quite romantic by nature, having read and listened to +tales of thrilling adventures among the redskins, as we call them +down my way, until I could scarce contain myself. I have always +longed for the chance to rescue a beautiful white captive from the +clutches of the cruel redskins. My valour--" + +"And I suppose you always dreamed of marrying her as they always +do in stories?" said she, smiling. + +"Invariably," said he. "Alas, if I had rescued all the fair maidens +my dreams have placed in jeopardy, I should by this time have as +many wives as Solomon. Only, I must say in defence of my ambitions, +I should not have had as great a variety. Strange as it may seem, +I remained through all my adventures singularly constant to a +certain idealistic captive. She looked, I may say, precisely alike +in each and every case. Poor old Solomon could not say as much for +his thousand wives. Mine, if I had them, would be so much alike in +face and form that I could not tell one from the other,--and, now +that I am older and wiser,--though not as wise as Solomon,--I am +thankful that not one of these daring rescues was ever consummated, +for I should be very much distressed now if I found myself married +to even the most beautiful of the ladies my feeble imagination +conceived." + +This subtle touch of gallantry was over the heads of Mr. and Mrs. +Striker. As for the girl, she looked momentarily startled, and +then as the dimples deepened, a faint flush rose to her cheeks. +An instant later, the colour faded, and into her lovely eyes came +a cold, unfriendly light. Realizing that he had offended her with +this gay compliment,--although he had never before experienced +rebuff in like circumstances,--he hastened to resume his narrative. + +"We finally came to Sugar River and followed the road along the +southern bank. You may know some of the settlers we found along +the river. Wisehart and Kinworthy and Dewey? They were among the +first to come to this part of the country, I am informed. Fine, +brave men, all of them. In Crawfordsville I stopped at the tavern +conducted by Major Ristine. While there I consulted with Mr. Elston +and Mr. Wilson and others about the advisability of selling my land +up here and my building lots in Lafayette. They earnestly advised +me not to sell. In their opinion Lafayette is the most promising +town on the Wabash, while the farming land in this section is not +equalled anywhere else in the world. Of course, I realize that they +are financially interested in the town of Lafayette, owning quite +a lot of property there, so perhaps I should not be guided solely +by their enthusiasm." + +"They are the men who bought most of Sam Sargeant's lots some +years back," said Striker, "when there wasn't much of anything in +the way of a town,--them and Jonathan Powers, I think it was. They +paid somethin' like a hundred an' fifty dollars for more'n half +of the lots he owned, an' then they started right in to crow about +the place. I was workin' down at Crawfordsville at the time. They +had plenty of chance to talk, 'cause that town was full of emigrants, +land-grabbers, travellers an' setch like. That was before the new +county was laid out, you see. Up to that time all the land north +of Montgomery County was what was called Wabash County. It run up +as fer as Lake Michigan, with the jedges an' courts an' land offices +fer the whole district all located in Crawfordsville. Maybe you +don't know it, but Tippecanoe County is only about six years old. +She was organized by the legislature in 1826. To show you how +smart Elston and them other fellers was, they donated a lot of +their property up in Lafayette to the county on condition that the +commissioners located the county seat there. That's how she come +to be the county seat, spite of the claims of Americus up on the +east bank of the Wabash. + +"Maybe you've heard of Bill Digby. He's the feller that started +the town o' Lafayette. Well, a couple o' days after he laid out +the town o' Lafayette,--named after a Frenchman you've most likely +heerd about,--he up an' sold the whole place to Sam Sargeant fer +a couple o' hundred dollars, they say. He kept enough ground fer a +ferry landin' an' a twenty-acre piece up above the town fer specolatin' +purposes, I understand. He afterwards sold this twenty-acre piece +to Sam fer sixty dollars, an' thought he done mighty well. When I +first come to the Wea, Lafayette didn't have more'n half a dozen +cabins. I went through her once on my way up to the tradin' house +at Longlois, couple a mile above. You wouldn't believe a town could +grow as fast as Lafayette has in the last couple o' years. If she +keeps on she'll be as big as all get-out, an' Crawfordsville won't +be nowhere. Tim Horran laid out Fairfield two-three years back, +over east o' here. Been a heap o' new towns laid out this summer, +all around here. But I guess they won't amount to much. Josiah +Halstead and Henry Ristine have jest laid out the town o' Columbia, +down near the Montgomery line. Over on Lauramie Crick is a town +called Cleveland, an' near that is Monroe, jest laid out by a +feller named Major. There's another town called Concord over east +o' Columbia. There may be more of 'em, but I ain't heerd of 'em +yet. They come up like mushrooms, an' 'fore you know it, why, there +they are. + +"This land o' yours, Mr. Gwynne, lays 'tween here an' this new +settlement o' Columbia, an' I c'n tell you that it ain't to be +beat anywheres in the country. I'd say it is the best land your +fa--er--ahem!" The speaker was seized with a violent and obviously +unnecessary spell of coughing. "Somethin' must ha' gone the wrong +way," he explained, lamely. "Feller ort to have more sense'n to +try to swaller when he's talkin'." + +"Comes of eatin' like a pig," remarked his wife, glaring at him +as she poured coffee into Gwynne's empty cup. "Mr. Gwynne'll think +you don't know any better. He never eats like this on Sunday," she +explained to their male guest. + +"I got a week-day style of eatin' an' one strickly held back fer +Sunday," said Phineas. "Same as clothes er havin' my boots greased." + +Kenneth was watching the face of the girl opposite. She was looking +down at her plate. He observed a little frown on her brow. When she +raised her eyes to meet his, he saw that they were sullen, almost +unpleasantly so. She did not turn away instantly, but continued +to regard him with a rather disconcerting intensity. Suddenly she +smiled. The cloud vanished from her brow, her eyes sparkled. He +was bewildered. There was no mistaking the unfriendliness that had +lurked in her eyes the instant before. But in heaven's name, what +reason had she for disliking him? + +"If you believe all that Phineas says, you will think you have +come to Paradise," she said. At no time had she uttered his name, +in addressing him, although it was frequently used by the Strikers. +She seemed to be deliberately avoiding it. + +"It is a present comfort, at least, to believe him," he returned. +"I hope I may not see the day when I shall have to take him to task +for misleading me in so vital a matter." + +"I hope not," said she, quietly. + +As he turned to Striker, he caught that worthy gazing at him with +a fixed, inquisitive stare. He began to feel annoyed and uncomfortable. +It was not the first time he had surprised a similar scrutiny on +the part of one or the other of the Strikers. Phineas, on being +detected, looked away abruptly and mumbled something about "God's +country." + +The young man decided it was time to speak. "By the way you all look +at me, Mr. Striker, I am led to suspect that you do not believe I +am all I represent myself to be. If you have any doubts, pray do +not hesitate to express them." + +Striker was boisterously reassuring. "I don't doubt you fer +a second, Mr. Gwynne. As I said before, the whole county has been +expectin' you to turn up. We heerd a few days back that you was in +Crawfordsville. If me an' Eliza seem to act queer it's because we +knowed your father an'--an', well, I can't help noticin' how much +you look like him. When he was your age he must have looked enough +like you to be your twin brother. We don't mean no disrespect, an' +I hope you'll overlook our nateral curiosity." + +Kenneth was relieved. The furtive looks were explained. + +"I am glad to hear that you do not look upon me as an outlaw or--" + +"Lord bless you," cried Striker, "there ain't nobody as would take +you fer an outlaw. You ain't cut out fer a renegade. We know 'em +the minute we lay eyes on 'em. Same as we know a Pottawatomy Injin +from a Shawnee, er a jack-knife from a Bowie. No, there ain't +no doubt in my mind about you bein' your father's son--an' heir, +as the sayin' goes. If you turn out to be a scalawag, I'll never +trust my eyes ag'in." + +The young man laughed. "In any case, you are very good to have +taken me in for the night, and I shall not forget your trust or +your hospitality. Wolves go about in sheep's clothing, you see, +and the smartest of men are sometimes fooled." He turned abruptly +to the girl. "Did you know my father, too?" + +She started violently and for the moment was speechless, a curious +expression in her eyes. + +"Yes," she said, at last, looking straight at him: "Yes, I knew +your father very well." + +"Then, you must have lived in these parts longer than I have +suspected," said he. "I should have said you were a newcomer." + +Mrs. Striker made a great clatter of pans and skillets at the stove. +The girl waited until this kindly noise subsided. + +"I have lived in this neighbourhood since I was eight years old," +she said, quietly. + +Striker hastened to add: "Somethin' like ten or 'leven years,--'leven, +I reckon, ain't it?" + +"Eleven years," she replied. + +Gwynne was secretly astonished and rather skeptical. He would have +taken oath that she was twenty-two or -three years old, and not +nineteen as computation made her. + +"She ain't lived here all the time," volunteered Eliza, somewhat +defensively. "She was to school in St. Louis fer two or three years +an'--" + +The young lady interrupted the speaker coldly. "Please, Eliza!" + +Eliza, looking considerably crestfallen, accepted the rebuke meekly. +"I jest thought he'd be interested," she murmured. + +"She came up the Wabash when she was nothin' but a striplin'," +began Striker, not profiting by his wife's experience. He might +have gone on at considerable length if he had not met the reproving, +violet eye. He changed the subject hastily. "As I was sayin', +we've had a powerful lot o' rain lately. Why, by gosh, last week +you could have went fishin' in our pertato patch up yander an' got +a mess o' sunfish in less'n no time. I never knowed the Wabash to +be on setch a rampage. An' as fer the Wild Cat Crick and Tippecanoe +River, why, they tell me there ain't been anything like--How's +that?" + +"Is Wabash an Indian name?" repeated Kenneth. + +"That's what they say. Named after a tribe that used to hunt an' +fish up an' down her, they say." + +"There was once a tribe of Indians in this part of the country," +broke in the girl, with sudden zest, "known as the Ouabachi. We +know very little about them nowadays, however. They were absorbed +by other and stronger tribes far back in the days of the French +occupation, I suppose. French trappers and voyageurs are known to +have traversed and explored the wilderness below here at least one +hundred and fifty years ago. There is an old French fort quite near +here,--Ouiatanon." + +"She knows purty nigh everything," said Phineas, proudly. "Well, I +guess we're about as full as it's safe to be, so now's your chance, +Zachariah." + +He pushed back his stool noisily and arose. Taking up the two +candlesticks, he led the way to the sitting-room, stopping at the +door for a word of instruction to the negro. "You c'n put your +blankets down here on the kitchen floor when you're ready to go to +bed. Mrs. Striker will kick you in the mornin' if you ain't awake +when she comes out to start breakfast." + +"Yassuh, yassuh," grinned the hungry darkey. "Missus won't need fo' +to kick more'n once, suh,--'cause Ise gwine to be hungry all over +ag'in 'long about breakfus time,--yas-SUH!" + +"Zachariah will wash the dishes and--" began Kenneth, addressing +Mrs. Striker, who was already preparing to cleanse and dry her +pots and pans. She interrupted him. + +"He won't do nothin' of the kind. I don't let nobody wash my dishes +but myself. Set down here, Zachariah, an' help yourself. When you're +done, you c'n go out an' carry me in a couple of buckets o' water +from the well,--an, that's all you CAN do." + +"I guess I'll go out an' take a look around the barn an' pens," +said Phineas, depositing the candles on the mantelpiece. "See +if everything's still there after the storm. No, Mr. Gwynne,--you +set down. No need o' you goin' out there an' gettin' them boots o' +your'n all muddy." + +He took up the lantern and lighted the tallow wick from one of the +candles. Then he fished a corncob pipe from his coattail pocket +and stuffed it full of tobacco from a small buckskin bag hanging +at the end of the mantel. + +"He'p yourself to tobaccer if you keer to smoke. There's a couple +o' fresh pipes up there,--jest made 'em yesterday,--an' it ain't +ag'inst the law to smoke in the house on rainy nights. Used to be +a time when we was first married that I had to go out an' git wet +to the skin jest because she wouldn't 'low no tobaccer smoke in +the house. Many's the time I've sot on the doorstep here enjoyin' +a smoke with the rain comin' down so hard it'd wash the tobaccer +right out o' the pipe, an' twice er maybe it was three times it +biled over an'--What's that you say?" + +"I did not say anything, Phineas," said the girl, shaking her head +mournfully. "I am wondering, though, where you will go when you +die." + +"Where I c'n smoke 'thout runnin' the risk o' takin' cold, more'n +likely," replied Phineas, winking at the young man. Then he went +out into the windy night, closing the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +SOMETHING ABOUT CLOTHES, AND MEN, AND CATS + + +Smiling over the settler's whimsical humour, Gwynne turned to his +companion, anticipating a responsive smile. Instead he was rewarded +by an expression of acute dismay in her dark eyes. He recalled seeing +just such a look in the eyes of a cornered deer. She met his gaze +for a fleeting instant and then, turning away, walked rapidly over +to the little window, where she peered out into the darkness. He +waited a few moments for her to recover the composure so inexplicably +lost, and then spoke,--not without a trace of coldness in his voice. + +"Pray have this chair." He drew the rocking-chair up to the fireplace, +setting it down rather sharply upon the strip of rag carpet that +fronted the wide rock-made hearth. "You need not be afraid to be +left alone with me. I am a most inoffensive person." + +He saw her figure straighten. Then she faced him, her chin raised, +a flash of indignation in her eyes. + +"I am not afraid of you," she said haughtily. "Why should you +presume to make such a remark to me?" + +"I beg your pardon," he said, bowing. "I am sorry if I have offended +you. No doubt, in my stupidity, I have been misled by your manner. +Now, will you sit down--and be friendly?" + +His smile was so engaging, his humility so genuine, that her manner +underwent a swift and agreeable change. She advanced slowly to the +fireplace, a shy, abashed smile playing about her lips. + +"May I not stand up for a little while?" she pleaded, with mock +submissiveness. "I do so want to grow tall." + +"To that I can offer no objection," he returned; "although in my +humble opinion you would do yourself a very grave injustice if you +added so much as the eighth of an inch to your present height." + +"I feel quite small beside you, sir," she said, taking her stand +at the opposite end of the hearth, from which position she looked +up into his admiring eyes. + +"I am an overgrown, awkward lummix," he said airily. "The boys +called me 'beanpole' at college." + +"You are not an awkward lummix, as you call yourself,--though what +a lummix is I have not the slightest notion. Mayhap if you stood +long enough you might grow shorter. They say men do,--as they become +older." She ran a cool, amused eye over his long, well-proportioned +figure, taking in the butter-nut coloured trousers, the foppish +waistcoat, the high-collared blue coat, and the handsome brown-thatched +head that topped the whole creation. He was almost a head taller +than she, and yet she was well above medium height. + +"How old are you?" she asked, abruptly. Again she was serious, +unsmiling. + +"Twenty-five," he replied, looking down into her dark, inquiring +eyes with something like eagerness in his own. He was saying over +and over again to himself that never had he seen any one so lovely +as she. "I am six years older than you. Somehow, I feel that I am +younger. Rather odd, is it not?" + +"Six years," she mused, looking into the fire. The glow of the +blazing logs cast changing, throbbing shadows across her face, now +soft and dusky, like velvet, under the warm caress of the firelight. +"Sometimes I feel much older than nineteen," she went on, shaking +her head as if puzzled. "I remember that I was supposed to be very +large for my age when I was a little girl. Everybody commented on +my size. I used to be ashamed of my great, gawky self. But," she +continued, shrugging her pretty shoulders, "that was ages ago." + +He drew a step nearer and leaned an elbow on the mantel. + +"You say you knew my father," he said, haltingly. "What was he +like?" + +She raised her eyes quickly and for an instant studied his face +curiously, as if searching for something that baffled her understanding. + +"He was very tall," she said in a low voice. "As tall as you are." + +"I have only a dim recollection of him," he said. "You see, I made +my home with my grandparents after I was five years old." He did +not offer any further information. "As a tiny lad I remember wishing +that I might grow up to be as big as my father. Did you know him +well?" + +If she heard, she gave no sign as she turned away again. This time +she walked over to the cabin door, which she opened wide, letting +in a rush of chill, damp air. He felt his choler rise. It was a +deliberate, intentional act on her part. She desired to terminate +the conversation and took this rude, insolent means of doing so. +Never had he been so flagrantly insulted,--and for what reason? He +had been courteous, deferential, friendly. What right had she,--this +insufferable peacock,--to consider herself his superior? Hot words +rushed to his lips, but he checked them. He contented himself with +an angry contemplation of her slender, graceful figure as she poised +in the open doorway, holding the latch in one hand while the other +was pressed against her bare throat for protection against the +cold night air. Her ringlets, flouted by the wind, threshed merrily +about the crown of her head. He noted the thick coil of hair that +capped the shapely white neck. Despite his rancour and the glowering +gaze he bent upon her, he was still lamentably conscious of her +perfections. He had it in his heart to go over and shake her soundly. +It would be a relief to see her break down and whimper. It would +teach her not to be rude to gentlemen! + +The two dogs came racing up to the threshold. She half-knelt and +stroked their heads. + +"No, no!" she cried out to them. "You cannot come in! Back with +you, Shep! Pete! That's a good dog!" + +Then she arose and quickly closed the door. + +"The wind is veering to the south," she said calmly, as she advanced +to the fireplace. She was shivering. "That means fair weather and +warmer. We may even see the sun to-morrow." + +She held out her hands to the blaze. + +"Won't you have this chair now?" he said stiffly, formally. She +was looking down into the fire, but he saw the dimple deepen in +her cheek and an almost imperceptible twitching at the corner of +her mouth. Confound her, was she laughing at him? Was he a source +of amusement to her? + +She turned her head and glanced up at him over her shoulder. He +caught a strained, appealing gleam in her eyes. + +"Please forgive me if I was rude," she said, quite humbly. + +He melted a little. He no longer desired to shake her. "I feared +I had in some way offended you," he said. + +She shook her head and was silent for a moment or two, staring +thoughtfully at the flames. A faint sigh escaped her, and then she +faced him resolutely, frankly. + +"You have succeeded fairly well in concealing your astonishment at +seeing me here in this hut, dressed as I am," she said, somewhat +hurriedly. "You have been greatly puzzled. I am about to confess +something to you. You will see me again,--often perhaps,--if you +remain long in this country. It is my wish that you should not +know who I am to-night. You will gain nothing by asking questions, +either of me or of the Strikers. You will know in the near future, +so let that be sufficient. At first I--" + +"You have my promise not to disregard your wishes in this or any +other matter," he said, bowing gravely. "I shall ask no questions." + +"Ah, but you have been asking questions all to yourself ever since +you came into this cabin and saw me--in all this finery--and you +will continue to ask them," she declared positively. "I do not blame +you. I can at least account for my incomprehensible costume. That +much you shall have, if no more. This frock is a new one. It has +just come up the river from St. Louis. I have never had it on until +to-day. Another one, equally as startling, lies in that bedroom +over there, and beside it on the bed is the dress I came here in +this afternoon. It is a plain black dress, and there is a veil and +a hideous black bonnet to go with it." She paused, a bright little +gleam of mingled excitement and defiance in her eyes. + +"You--you have lost--I mean, you are in mourning for some one?" he +exclaimed. The thought rushed into his mind: Was she a widow? This +radiantly beautiful girl a widow? + +"For my father," she stated succinctly. "He died almost a year +ago. I was in school at St. Louis when it happened. I had not seen +him for two years. My mother sent for me to come home. Since that +time I have worn nothing but black,--plain, horrible black. Do not +misjudge me. I am not vain, nor am I as heartless as you may be +thinking. I had and still have the greatest respect for my father. +He was a good man, a fine man. But in all the years of my life he +never spoke a loving word to me, he never caressed me, he never +kissed me. He was kindness itself, but--he never looked at me with +love in his eyes. I don't suppose you can understand. I was the +flesh of his flesh, and yet he never looked at me with love in his +eyes. + +"As I grew older I began to think that he hated me. That is +a terrible thing to say,--and you must think it vile of me to say +it to you, a stranger. But I have said it, and I would not take +it back. I have seen in his eyes,--they were brooding, thoughtful +eyes,--I have seen in them at times a look--Oh, I cannot tell you +what it seemed like to me. I can only say that it had something +like despair in it,--sadness, unhappiness,--and I could not help +feeling that I was the cause of it. When I was a tiny girl he +never carried me in his arms. My mother always did that. When I +was thirteen years old he hired me out as a servant in a farmer's +family and I worked there until I was fourteen. It was not in this +neighbourhood. I worked for my board and keep, a thing I could not +understand and bitterly resented because he was prosperous. Then +my mother fell ill. She was a strong woman, but she broke down in +health. He came and got me and took me home. I was a big girl for +my age,--as big as I am now,--and strong. I did all the work about +the house until my mother was well again. He never gave me a word +of appreciation or one of encouragement. + +"He was never unkind, he never found fault with me, he never in all +his life scolded or switched me when I was bad. Then, one day,--it +was three years ago,--he told me to get ready to go down to St. Louis +to school. He put me in charge of a trader and his wife who were +going down the river by perogue. He gave them money to buy suitable +clothes for me,--a large sum of money, it must have been,--and he +provided me with some for my own personal use. All arrangements +had been made in advance, without my knowing anything about it. + +"I stayed there until I was called home by his death. I expected +to return to school, but my mother refused to let me go back. She +said my place was with her. That was last fall. She is still in the +deepest mourning, and I believe will never dress otherwise. I have +said all there is to say about my father. I did not love him, I +was not grieved when he passed away. It was almost as if a stranger +had died." + +She paused. He took occasion to remark, sympathetically: "He must +have been a strange man." + +"He was," she said. "I hope I have made you understand what kind +of a man he was, and what kind of a father he was to me. Now, I am +coming to the point. This finery you see me in now was purchased +without my mother's knowledge or consent,--with money of my own. +The box was delivered to Phineas Striker day before yesterday up +in Lafayette. I came here to spend the night, in order that I might +try them on. I live in town, with my mother. She left the farm after +my father's death. She adored him. She could not bear to live out +there on the lonely--but, that is of no interest to you. A few weeks +ago I asked her if I might not take off the black. She refused at +first, but finally consented. I have her promise that I may put on +colours sometime this spring. So I wrote to the woman who used to +make my dresses in St. Louis,--my father was not stingy with me, +so I always had pretty frocks,--and now they have come. My mother +does not know about them. She will be shocked when I tell her I have +them, but she will not be angry. She loves me. Is your curiosity +satisfied? It will have to be, for this is all I care to divulge +at present." + +He smiled down into her earnest eyes. "My curiosity is appeased," +he said. "I should not have slept tonight if you had not explained +this tantalizing mystery. Therefore, I thank you. May I have your +permission to say that you are very lovely in your new frock and +that you are marvellously becoming to it?" + +"As you have already said it, I must decline to give you the +permission," she replied, naively. + +He thought her adorable in this mood. "As a lawyer," he said, "I make +a practice of never withdrawing a statement, unless I am convinced +by incontrovertible evidence that I was wrong in the first place,--and +you will have great difficulty in producing the proof." + +"Wait till you see me in my black dress and bonnet,--and mittens," +she challenged. + +He bowed gallantly. "Only the addition of the veil,--it would have +to be a very thick one,--I am sure,--could make me doubt my own +eyes. They are witnesses whose testimony it will be very hard to +shake." + +Her manner underwent another transformation, as swift as it was +unexpected. A troubled, harassed expression came into her eyes, +driving out the sparkle that had filled them during that all too +brief exchange. The smile died on her lips, which remained drawn +and slightly parted as if frozen; she seemed for the moment to +have stopped breathing. He was acutely alive to the old searching, +penetrating look,--only now there was an added note of uneasiness. +In another moment all this had vanished, and she was smiling +again,--not warmly, frankly as before, but with a strange wistfulness +that left him more deeply perplexed than ever. + +"I wonder,--" she began, and then shook her head without completing +the sentence. After a moment she went on: "Phineas is a long time. +I hope all is well." + +They heard the kitchen door open and close and Striker's voice +loudly proclaiming the staunchness of his outbuildings, a speech +cut short by Eliza's exasperation. + +"How many times do I have to tell you, Phin Striker, not to come +in this here kitchen without wipin' your feet? Might as well be +the barn, fer as you're concerned. Go out an' scrape that mud offen +your boots." + +Deep mumbling and then the opening and shutting of the door again. + +"Sometimes, I fear, poor Phineas finds matrimony very trying," said +the girl, her eyes twinkling. + +Eliza appeared in the doorway. She was rolling down her sleeves. + +"How are you two gettin' along?" she inquired, looking from one +to the other keenly. "I thought Phin was in here amusin' you the +whole time with lies about him an' Dan'l Boone. He used to hunt +with old Dan'l when he was a boy, an' if ever'thing happened to +them two fellers that he sez happened, why, Phin'd have to be nearly +two hundred years old by now an' there wouldn't be a live animal +or Indian between here an' the Gulf of Mexico." She seemed a little +uneasy. "I hope you two made out all right." + +The girl spoke quickly, before her companion could reply. "We have +had a most agreeable chat, Eliza. Are you through in the kitchen? +If you are, would you mind coming into the bedroom with me? I want +you to see the other dress on me, and besides I have a good many +things I wish to talk over with you. Good night," she said to +Gwynne. "No doubt we shall meet again." + +He was dumbfounded. "Am I not to see you in the new dress?" he +cried, visibly disappointed. "Surely you are not going to deny me +the joy of beholding you in--" + +She interrupted him almost cavalierly. "Pray save up some of your +compliments against the day when you behold me in my sombre black, +for I shall need them then. Again, good night." + +"Good night," he returned, bowing stiffly and in high dudgeon. + +Eliza, in hurrying past, had snatched one of the candlesticks from +the mantel, and now stood holding the bedroom door open for the +queenly young personage. A moment later the door closed behind +them. + +Gwynne was still scowling at the inoffensive door when Striker came +blustering into the room. + +"Where are the women?" he demanded, stopping short. + +A jerk of the thumb was his answer. + +"Gone to bed?" with something like an accusing gleam in his eye as +his gaze returned to the young man. + +"I believe so," replied Gwynne carelessly, as he sat down in the +despised rocker and stretched his long legs out to the fire. "I +fancy we are safe to smoke now, Striker. We have the parlor all to +ourselves. The ladies have deserted us." + +Striker took the tobacco pouch from the peg on the mantel and handed +it to his guest. + +"Fill up," he said shortly, and then walked over to the bedroom +door. He rapped timorously on one of the thick boards. "Want me +fer anything?" he inquired softly, as his wife opened the door an +inch or two. + +"No. Go to bed when you're ready an' don't ferget to smother that +fire." + +"Good night, Phineas," called out another voice merrily. + +"Good night," responded Striker, with a dubious shake of his head. +He returned to the fireplace. + +"Women are funny things," said he, dragging up another chair. +"'Specially about boots. I go out 'long about sun-up an' work like +a dog all day, an' then when I come in to supper what happens? First +thing my wife does is to look at my boots. Then she tells me to go +out an' scrape the mud off'm 'em. Then she looks up at my face to +see if it's me. Sometimes I get so doggoned mad I wish it wasn't +me, so's I could turn out to be the preacher er somebody like that +an' learn her to be keerful who she's talkin' to. Supposin' I do +track a little mud into her kitchen? It's OUR mud, ain't it? 'Tain't +as if it was somebody else's land I'm bringin' into her kitchen. +Between us we own every danged bit of land from here to the Middleton +dirt-road an' it ain't my fault if it happens to be mud once in +awhile. You'd think, the way she acts, I'd been out stealin' somebody +else's mud just for the sake of bringin' it into her kitchen. + +"An' what makes me madder'n anything else is the way she scolds +them pore dogs when they come in with a little mud. As if a dog +understood he had to scrape his feet off an' wash his paws an' +everything 'fore he c'n step inside his master's cabin. Now you +take cats, they're as smart as all get out. They're jist like women. +Allus thinkin' about their pussonal appearance. Ever notice a cat +walk across a muddy strip o' ground? Why, you'd think they was +walkin' on a red hot stove, the way they step. I've seen a cat go +fifty rods out of her way to get around a mud-puddle. I recollect +seein' ole Maje,--he's our principal tom-cat,--seein' him creepin' +along a rail fence nearly half a mile from the house so's he +wouldn't have to cross a stretch o' wet ground jist outside the +kitchen door. Now, a dog would have splashed right through it an' +took the consequences. But ole Maje--NO, SIR! He goes miles out'n +his way an' then when he gits home he sets down on the doorstep +an' licks his feet fer half an hour er so before he begins to meow +so's Eliza'll open the door an' let him in. + +"Ever' so often I got to tie a litter of kittens up in a meal-bag +an' take 'em over to the river an' drownd 'em, an' I want to tell +you it's a pleasure to do it. You never in all your life heerd of +anybody puttin' a litter of pups in a bag an' throwin' 'em in the +river, did ye? No, sirree! Dogs is like men. They grow up to be +useful citizens, mud er no mud. Why, if I had a dog what sat down +on the doorstep an' licked his paws ever' time he got mud on 'em +I'd take him out an' shoot him, 'cause I'd know he wasn't no kind +of a dog at all. Now, Eliza's tryin' to make me act like a cat, +an' me hatin' cats wuss'n pison. There's setch a thing as bein' too +danged clean, don't you think so? Sort o' takes the self-respect +away from a man. Makes you feel as if you'd ort to have petticoats +on in place o' pants. How do you like that terbaccer?" + +Throughout the foregoing dissertation, Gwynne had sat with his +moody gaze fixed upon the flaring logs, which Striker had kicked +into renewed life with the heel of one of his ponderous boots, +disdaining the stout charred poker that leaned against the chimney +wall. He was pulling dreamily at the corncob pipe; the fragrant blue +smoke, drifting toward the open fireplace, was suddenly caught by +the draft and drawn stringily into the hot cavern where it was lost +in the hickory volume that swept up the chimney. + +He had taken in but a portion of his host's remarks; his thoughts +were not of dogs and cats but of the perplexing girl who eagerly +gave him her confidence in one moment and shrank into the iciest +reticence the next. Her unreserved revelations concerning her own +father, uttered with all the frankness of an intimate, and the +childish ingenuousness with which she accounted for her raiment, +followed so closely, so abruptly by the most insolent display of +bad manners he had ever known, gave him ample excuse for reflection, +and if he failed to obtain the full benefit of Striker's discourse +it was because he had no power to command his addled thoughts. As +a matter of fact, he was debating within himself the advisability +of asking his host a few direct and pointed questions. A fine regard +for Striker's position deterred him,--and to this regard was added +the conviction that his host would probably tell him to mind his own +business and not go prying into the affairs of others. He came out +of his reverie in good time to avoid injury to his host's feelings. + +"It is admirable," he assured him promptly. "Do you cure it yourself +or does it come up the river from Kentucky?" + +"Comes from Kentucky. We don't have much luck tryin' to raise +terbaccer in these parts." + +Whereupon Mr. Striker went into a long and intelligent lecture +upon the products of the soil in that section of Indiana; what to +avoid and what to cultivate; how to buy and how to sell; the traders +one could trust and those who could not be trusted out of sight; +the short corn crop of the year before and the way he lost half a +dozen as fine shoats as you'd see in a lifetime on account of wild +hogs coming out of the woods and enticin' 'em off. He interrupted +himself at one stage in order to get up and close the door to the +kitchen. Zachariah was snoring lustily. + +"Whenever you feel like goin' to bed, jist say so," he said at +last, as his guest drew his huge old silver watch from his pocket +and glanced at it. + +"I have been doing a little surmising, Mr. Striker," said the other. +"You have only this sitting-room and one bedroom. The ladies are +occupying the latter. My servant has gone to bed in the kitchen. +I am wondering where you and I are to dispose ourselves." + +"I could see you was doin' some figgerin', friend. Well, fer that +matter, so was I. 'Tain't often she comes to spend the night here, +an' when she does me an' Eliza give her our room an' bed an' we pull +an extry straw tick out here in the room an' make the best of it. +Now, as I figger it out, Eliza is usin' that straw tick herself, +'cause she certainly wouldn't ever dream of gettin' into bed +with--with--er--her. Not but what she's clean an' all that,--I +mean Eliza,--but you see, she used to be a hired girl once upon a +time, an'--an'--well, that sort of makes a--" + +"My fellow-guest confided to me a little while ago that she too +had been a hired girl, Mr. Striker, so I don't see--" + +"Did she tell you that?" demanded Phineas sharply. + +"She did," replied Gwynne, enjoying his host's consternation. + +"Well, I'll be tee-totally danged," exploded the settler. He got +up suddenly and turning his back to his guest, knocked the burnt +tobacco from his pipe against the stone arch of the fireplace. +"I guess I better rake the ashes over these here coals," said he, +"'cause if I don't an' the cabin took fire an' burnt us all alive +Eliza'd never git done jawin' me about it." Presently he stood off +and critically surveyed his work. "I guess that'll fix her so's +she won't spit any sparks out here an' set fire to the carpet. As +I was sayin', I reckon I'll have to make up a bed here in front of +the fireplace fer myself, an' let you go up to the attic. We got +a--" + +"I was afraid of this, Mr. Striker. You are putting yourselves out +terribly on my account. I can't allow it, sir. It is too much to ask--" + +"Now, don't you worry about us. You ain't puttin' us out at all. +One night last winter,--the coldest night we had,--Eliza an' me +slep' on the kitchen floor with nary a blanket er quilt, an' I had +to git up every half hour to put wood on the fire so's we wouldn't +freeze to death, all because Joe Wadley an' his wife an' her father +an' mother an' his sister with her three children dropped in sort +of unexpected on account of havin' their two wagons git stuck in +a snow drift a mile er so from here. No, sirree, don't you worry. +There's a spare tick up in the attic what we use fer strangers when +they happen along, an' Zachariah has put your blankets right here +by the door,--an' your pistols, too, I see,--so whenever you're +ready, I'll lead the way up the ladder an' show you where you're +to roost. There's a little winder at one end, so's you c'n have +all the air you want,--an', my stars, there's a lot of it to-night, +ain't there? Jist listen to her whistle. Sounds like winter. She's +changed, though, an' I wouldn't be surprised if we'd find the moon +is shinin'." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +VIOLA GWYN + + +They stepped outside the cabin, into the fresh, brisk gale that +was blowing. A gibbous moon hung in the eastern star-specked sky. +Scurrying moonlit clouds off in the west sped northward on the +sweep of the inconstant wind, which had shifted within the hour. A +light shone dimly through the square little window of the bedroom. +Kenneth's imagination penetrated to sacred precincts beyond the +solid logs: he pictured her in the other frock, moving gracefully +before the fascinated eyes of the settler's wife, proud as a peacock +and yet as gay as the lark. + +"Women like to talk," observed Striker, with a sidelong glance at +the lighted window. He led the way to the opposite end of the cabin +and pointed off into the night. "Lafayette's off in yan direction. +There's a big stretch of open prairie in between, once you git +out'n these woods, an' further on there's more timber. The town's +down in a sort of valley, shaped somethin' like a saucer, with hills +on all sides an' the river cuttin' straight through the middle. +Considerable buildin' goin' on this spring. There's talk of the +Baptists an' the Methodists puttin' up new churches an' havin' +regular preachers instead of the circuit riders. But you'll see +all this fer yourself when you git there. Plenty of licker to be +had at Sol Hamer's grocery,--mostly Mononga-Durkee whisky,--in case +you git the Wabash shakes or suddenly feel homesick." + +"I drink very little," said Kenneth. + +"Well, you'll soon git over that," prophesied his host. "Everybody +does. A spell of aguer like we have along the river every fall an' +winter an' spring will make you mighty thankful fer Sol Hamer's +medicine, an' by the time summer comes you'll be able to stand +more'n you ever thought you could stand. What worries me is how +the women manage to git along without it. You see big strong men +goin' around shakin' their teeth out an' docterin' day an' night +at Sol's, but I'll be doggoned if you ever see a woman takin' it. +Seems as if they'd ruther shake theirselves to death than tetch a +drop o' whisky." + +"You would not have them otherwise, would you?" + +"Why, if I ever caught my wife takin' a swaller o' whisky, I'd--well, +by gosh, I don't know what I would do. First place, I'd think the +world was comin' to an end, and second place, I guess I'd be glad +it was. No, sirree, I don't want to see whisky goin' down a woman's +gullet. But that don't explain how they come to git along without +it when they've got the aguer. They won't even take it when a +rattlesnake bites 'em. Sooner die. An' in spite of all that, they +bring he-children into the world that can't git over a skeeter bite +unless they drink a pint or two of whisky. Well, I guess we better +go to roost, Mr. Gwynne. Must be nine o'clock. Everything's all +right out at the barn an' the chicken coops. Wolves an' foxes an' +weasels visit us sometimes at night, but I got things fixed so's +they go away hungry. In the day time, Eliza's got an ole musket +o' mine standin' in the kitchen to skeer the hawks away, an' I got +a rifle in the settin' room fer whatever varmint comes along at +night,--includin' hoss-thieves an' setch-like." + +"Horse-thieves?" + +"Yep. Why, only last month a set of hoss-thieves from down the +river went through the Wea plains an' stole sixteen yearlin' colts, +drove 'em down to the river, loaded 'em on a flat-boat an' got away +without losin' a hair. Done it on a Sunday night, too." + +It was a few minutes past nine when Kenneth followed his host +up the ladder and through the trap-door into the stuffy attic. He +carried his rough riding-boots, which Zachariah had cleaned and +greased with a piece of bacon-rind. + +"I'll leave the ladder here," said Striker, depositing the candlestick +on the floor. "So's I c'n stick my head in here in the mornin' an' +rouse you up. There's your straw-tick over yander, an' I'll fotch +your blankets up in a minute or two. I reckon you'll have to crawl +on your hands an' knees; this attic wasn't built fer full-size +men." + +"I will be all right," his guest assured him. "Beggars cannot be +choosers. A place to lay my head, a roof to keep the rain off, and +a generous host--what more can the wayfarer ask?" + +The clapboard roof was a scant three feet above the dusty floor +of the attic. Stooping, the young man made his way to the bed-tick +near the little window. He did not sniff with scorn at his humble +surroundings. He had travelled long and far and he had slept in +worse places than this. He was drawing off his boots when Striker +again stuck his head and shoulders through the opening and laid +his roll of blankets on the floor. + +"Eliza jist stuck her head out to tell me to shut this trap-door, +so's my snorin' won't keep you awake. I fergot all about my snorin'. +Like as not if I left this door open the whole danged roof would +be lifted right off'm the cabin 'fore I'd been asleep five minutes. +Well, good night. I'll call you in the mornin' bright an' early." + +The trap-door was slowly lowered into place as the shaggy head and +broad shoulders of the settler disappeared. The young man heard the +scraping of the ladder as it was being removed to a place against +the wall. + +He pried open the tight little window, letting a draft of fresh air +rush into the stifling attic. Then he sat on the edge of the tick +for a few minutes, ruminating, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on the +sputtering, imperilled candle. Finally he shook his head, sighed, +and began to unstrap his roll of blankets. He had decided to remove +only his coat and waistcoat. The sharp, staccato barking of a fox +up in the woods fell upon his ears. He paused to listen. Then came +the faraway, unmistakable howl of a wolf, the solemn, familiar hoot +of the wilderness owl and the raucous call of the great night heron. +But there was no sound from the farmyard. He said his prayers--he +never forgot to say the prayer his mother had taught him--blew out +the candle, pulled the blankets up to his chin, and was soon fast +asleep. + +He did not know what time it was when he was aroused by the barking +of Striker's dogs, loud, furious barking and ugly growls, signifying +the presence in the immediate neighbourhood of the house of some +intruder, man or beast. Shaking off the sleep that held him, he +crept to the window and looked out. The moon was gone and the stars +had almost faded from the inky black dome. He guessed the hour +with the acute instinct of one to whom the vagaries of night have +become familiar through long understanding. It would now be about +three o'clock in the morning, with the creeping dawn an hour and +a half away. + +Suddenly his gaze fell upon a light moving among the trees some +distance from the cabin. It appeared and disappeared, like a jack +o' lantern, but always it moved southward, obscured every few feet +by an intervening trunk or a clump of brush. As he watched the +bobbing light, he heard some one stirring in the room below. Then +the cabin door creaked on its rusty hinges and almost immediately +a jumble of subdued hoarse voices came up to him. He felt for his +pistols and realized with something of a shock that he had left them +in the kitchen with Zachariah. For the first time in his travels +he had neglected to place them beside his bed. + +The dogs, admonished by a sharp word or two, ceased their barking. +This reassured him, for they would obey no one except Phineas +Striker. Whoever was at the cabin door, there was no longer any +question in his mind as to the peaceful nature of the visit. He +crept over to the trap-door and cautiously attempted to lift it +an inch or so, the better to hear what was going on, but try as he +would he could not budge the covering. The murmur of voices went on +for a few minutes longer, and then he heard the soft, light pad of +feet on the floor below; sibilant, penetrating whispers; a suppressed +feminine ejaculation followed by the low laugh of a man, a laugh +that might well have been described as a chuckle. + +For a long time he lay there listening to the confused sound of +whispers, the stealthy shuffling of feet, the quiet opening and +closing of a door, and then there was silence. + +Several minutes passed. He stole back to the window. The light in +the forest had vanished. Just as he was on the point of crawling +into bed again, another sound struck his ear: the unmistakable +rattle of wagon wheels on their axles, the straining of harness, +the rasp of tug chains,--quite near at hand. The clack-clack of +the hubs gradually diminished as the heavy vehicle made its slow, +tortuous way off through the ruts and mire of the road. Presently +the front door of the cabin squealed on its hinges, the latch +snapped and the bolt fell carefully into place. + +He could not go to sleep again. His brain was awake and active, +filled with unanswered questions, beset by endless speculation. +The first faint sign of dawn, creeping through the window, found +him watching eagerly, impatiently for its appearance. The presence +of a wagon, even at that black hour of the night, while perhaps +unusual, was readily to be accounted for in more ways than one, none +of them possessing a sinister significance. A neighbouring farmer +making an early start for town stopping to carry out some friendly +commission for Phineas Striker; a settler calling for assistance +in the case of illness at his home; hunters on their way to the +marshes for wild ducks and geese; or even guardians of the law in +search of malefactors. But the mysterious light in the woods,--that +was something not so easily to be explained. + +The square little aperture was clearly defined against the greying +sky before he distinguished signs of activity in the room below. +Striker was up and moving about. He could hear him stacking logs +in the fireplace, and presently there came up to him the welcome +crackle of kindling-wood ablaze. A door opened and a gruff voice +spoke. The settler was routing Zachariah out of his slumbers. +Far off in some unknown, remote land a rooster crowed,--the day's +champion, the first of all to greet the rising sun. Almost instantly, +a cock in Striker's barnyard awoke in confusion and dismay, and +sent up a hurried, raucous cock-a-doodle-doo,--too late by half +a minute to claim the honours of the day, but still a valiant +challenger. Then other chanticleers, big and little, sounded their +clarion call,--and the day was born. + +Kenneth, despite his longing for this very hour to come, now perversely +wished to sleep. A belated but beatific drowsiness seized him. He +was only half-conscious of the noise that attended the lifting of +the trap-door. + +"Wake up! Time to git up," a distant voice was calling, and he +suddenly opened his eyes very wide and found himself staring at a +shaggy, unkempt head sticking up out of the floor, rendered grim +and terrifying by the fitful play of a ruddy light from the depths +below. For a second he was bewildered. + +"That you, Striker?" he mumbled. + +"Yep,--it's me. Time to git up. Five o'clock. Breakfass'll soon be +ready. You c'n wash up out at the well. Sleep well?" + +"Passably. I was awakened some time in the night by your visitors." + +He was sitting up on the edge of the tick, drawing on his boots. +Striker was silent for a moment. + +"Thought maybe you'd be disturbed, spite of all we could do to be +as quiet as possible. People from a farm 'tother side of the plains." + +The head disappeared, and in a very few minutes Gwynne, carrying +his coat and waistcoat, descended the ladder into the presence of +a roaring fire. He shot a glance at the closed bedroom door, and +then hastily made his way out of the cabin and around to the well. +Eliza was preparing breakfast. In the grey half-light he made out +Striker and Zachariah moving about the barnlot. A rough but clean +towel hung across the board wall of the well, while a fresh bucket +of water stood on the shelf inside, its chain hanging limply from +the towering end of the "h'isting pole." + +As he completed his ablutions, the darkey boy approached. + +"Good morning, Zachariah," he spluttered, over the edge of the +towel. "Did you sleep well?" + +"No, suh, Marse Kenneth, Ah slep' powerful porely. Ah don't reckon +Ah had mah eyes close' more'n fifteen seconds all night long, suh." + +His master peered at him. Zachariah's eyes were not yet thoroughly +open. + +"You mean you did not have them open more than fifteen seconds, +you rascal. Why, you were asleep and snoring by nine o'clock." + +"Yas, suh, yas, suh,--but Ah done got 'em wide open ag'in 'side o' +no time. Ah jes' couldn't holp worryin', Marse Kenneth, 'bout you +all. Ah sez to mahself, ef Marse Kenneth he ain' got no fitten +place to lay his weary haid--" + +"Oh, then you were not kept awake by noises or--by the by, did you +hear any noises?" + +"Noises? No, SUH! Dis yere cabin hit was like a grave. Thass what +kep' me awake, mos' likely. Ah reckon Ah is used to noises. Ah jes' +couldn't go to sleep widdout 'em, Marse Kenneth. Wuzzen't even a +cricket er a--" + +His master's hearty laugh caused him to cut his speech short. A +wary glance out of the corner of his eye satisfied him that it was +now time to change the subject. + +"Done fed de hosses, suh, an' mos' ready to packen up fo' de juhney, +suh. Yas, SUH! Ev'thing all hunky-dory jes' soon as Marse Kenneth +done had his breakfuss. YAS, suh! Yas, SUH!" + +They ate breakfast by candle-light, Striker and Eliza and Kenneth. +There was no sign of the beautiful and exasperating girl. Phineas +was strangely glum and preoccupied, his wife too busy with her +flap-jacks to take even the slightest interest in the desultory +conversation. + +"A little too early for my fellow-guest to be up and about, I +see," ventured Kenneth at last, taking the bull by the horns. His +curiosity had to be satisfied. + +Striker did not look up from his plate. "She's gone. She ain't +here." + +"Gone?" + +"Yep. Left jist a little while 'fore sun-up." + +"Her ma sent for her," volunteered Eliza. + +"Sent fer her to come in a hurry," added Striker, trying to be +casual. + +"Then it was she who went away in the wagon last night," said the +young man, a note of disappointment in his voice. + +"Airly this mornin'," corrected his host. "Jist half an hour or so +'fore sun-up." + +"I trust her mother is not ill." + +"No tellin'," was Striker's non-committal response. + +It was quite apparent to Kenneth that they did not wish to discuss +the matter. He waited a few moments before remarking: + +"I saw a light moving through the woods above here,--a lantern, +I took it to be,--just after I was awakened by the barking of the +dogs. I thought at first it was that which set the dogs off on a +rampage." + +Striker was looking at him intently under his bushy eyebrows, his +knife poised halfway to his lips. While he could not see Eliza, who +was at the stove behind him, he was struck by the fact that there +was a brief, significant suspension of activity on her part; the +scrape of the "turnover" in the frying-pan ceased abruptly. + +"A lantern up in the woods?" said Striker slowly, looking past +Gwynne at Eliza. + +"A light. It may not have been a lantern." + +"Which way was it movin'?" + +"In that direction," indicating the south. + +The turning of the flap-jacks in the pan was resumed. Striker +relaxed a little. + +"Hunters, I reckon, goin' down stream for wild duck and geese this +mornin'. There's a heap o' ducks an' geese passin' over--" + +"See here, Phineas," broke in his wife suddenly, "what's the sense +of sayin' that? You know it wasn't duck hunters. Nobody's out +shooting ducks with the river as high as it is down this way, an' +Mr. Gwynne knows it, if he's got half as much sense as I think he +has." + +"When I heard people out in front of the cabin shortly afterward, +I naturally concluded that the lantern belonged to them," remarked +the young man. + +"Well, it didn't," said Striker, laying down his knife. "I guess it +won't hurt you to know now somethin' that will be of considerable +interest to you later on. I ain't betrayin' nobody's secret, 'cause +I said I was goin' to tell you the whole story." + +"Don't you think you'd better let it come from somebody else, Phin?" +interposed his wife nervously. + +"No, I don't, Eliza. 'Cause why? 'Cause I think he'd ort to know. +Maybe he'll be able to put a stop to her foolishness. We didn't know +until long after you went to bed that her real reason fer comin' +here yesterday was to run off an' get married to Barry Lapelle. +She didn't tell you no lies about her clothes an' all that, 'cause +her ma had put her foot down on her takin' off black. They had it +all planned out beforehand, her an' this Lapelle. He was to come +fer her some time before daybreak with a couple of hosses an' they +was to be off before the sun was up on their way to Attica where +they was to be married, an' then go on down the river to his home +in Terry Hut. Me an' Eliza set up all night in that bedroom, tryin' +to coax her out of it. I don't like this Lapelle feller. He's a +handsome cuss, but he's as wild as all get out,--drinks, gambles, +an' all setch. Well, to make a long story short, that was prob'ly +him up yander on the ole Injin trace, with his hosses, waitin' fer +the time to come when they could be off. Her ma must have found +out about their plans, 'cause she come here herself with two of her +hired men an' old Cap'n Scott, a friend of the fam'ly, an' took her +daughter right out from under Barry's nose. It was them you heared +down here last night. I will say this fer the girl, she kinder +made up her mind 'long about midnight that it was a foolish thing +to do, runnin' off like this with Barry, an' like as not when the +time come she'd have backed out." + +"She's a mighty headstrong girl," said Eliza. "Sot in her ways an' +sp'iled a good deal by goin' to school down to St. Louis." "Her +mother don't want her to marry Lapelle. She's dead sot ag'inst it. +It's a mighty funny way fer the girl to act, when she's so fond of +her mother. I can't understand it in her. All the more reason fer +her to stick to her mother when it's a fact that the old woman +ain't got what you'd call a friend in the whole deestrict. She's a +queer sort of woman,--close an' stingy as all get out, an' as hard +as a hickory log. Never been seen at a church meetin'. She makes +her daughter go whenever there's a meetin', but as fer herself,--no, +sirree. 'Course, I understand why she's so sot ag'inst Barry. She's +purty well off an' the girl will be rich some day." + +"Shucks!" exclaimed Eliza. "Barry Lapelle's after her 'cause she's +the purtiest girl him or anybody else has ever seen. He ain't the +only man that's in love with her. They ALL are,--clear from Lafayette +to Terry Hut, an' maybe beyond. Don't you tell me it's her money +he's after, Phin Striker. He's after HER. He's got plenty of money +himself, so they say, so why--" + +"I ain't so sure about that," broke in her husband. "There's a lot +of talk about him gamblin' away most everything his father left him. +Lost one of his boats last winter in a poker game up at Lafayette, +an' had to borrer money on some land he's got down the river to +git it back. The packet Paul Revere it was. Used to run on the +Mississippi. I guess she kinder lost her head over him," he went +on musingly. "He's an awful feller with women, so good-lookin' an' +all, an' so different from the farm boys aroun' here. Allus got +good clothes on, an' they say he has fit a couple of duels down +the river. Somehow that allus appeals to young girls. But I can't +understand it in her. She's setch a level-headed girl,--but, then, I +guess they're all alike when a good-lookin' man comes along. Look +at Eliza here. The minute she sot eyes on me she--" "I didn't marry +you, Phin Striker, because you was purty, let me tell you that," +exclaimed Eliza, witheringly. + +Gwynne, who had been listening to all this with a queer sinking of +the heart, interrupted what promised to develop into an acrimonious +wrangle over pre-connubial impressions. He was decidedly upset by +the revelations; a vague dream, barely begun, came to a sharp and +disagreeable end. + +"She actually had planned to run away with this man Lapelle?" he +exclaimed, frowning. "It was all arranged?" + +"So I take it," said Striker. "She brought some of her personal +trinkets with her, but Eliza never suspected anything queer about +that." + +"The fellow must be an arrant scoundrel," declared the young man +angrily. "No gentleman would subject an innocent girl to such--" + +"All's well that ends well, as the feller says," interrupted +Striker, arising from the table. "At least fer the present. She +seemed sort of willin' to go home with her ma, so I guess her heart +ain't everlastingly busted. I thought it was best to tell you all +this, Mr. Gwynne, 'cause I got a sneakin' idee you're goin' to +see a lot of that girl, an' maybe you'll turn out to be a source +of help in time o' trouble to her." + +"I fail to understand just what you mean, Striker. She is an absolute +stranger to me." + +"Well, we'll see what we shall see," said Striker, cryptically. +He opened the kitchen door and called to Zachariah to hurry in and +get his breakfast. + +Half an hour later Kenneth and his servant mounted their horses in +the barnyard and prepared to depart. The sun was shining and there +was a taste and tang of spring in the breeze that flouted the faces +of the horsemen. + +"Follow this road back to the crossin' an' turn to your left," +directed Striker, "an' 'fore you know it you'll be in Lay-flat, as +they call it down in Crawfordsville. Remember, you're allus most +welcome here. I reckon we'll see somethin' of each other as time +goes on. It ain't difficult fer honest men to be friends as well +as neighbours in this part of the world. I'm glad you happened my +way last night." + +He walked alongside Gwynne's stirrup as they moved down toward the +road. + +"Some day," said the young man, "I should like to have a long talk +with you about my father. You knew him well and I--by the way, your +love-lorn friend knew him also." + +The other was silent for half a dozen paces, looking straight ahead. + +"Yes," said he, with curious deliberation. "She was sayin' as how +she told you a lot about him last night,--what sort of a man he +was, an' all that." + +"She told me nothing that--" + +"Jist a minute, Mr. Gwynne," said Striker, laying his hand on the +rider's knee. Kenneth drew rein. "I guess maybe you didn't know +who she was talkin' about at the time, but it was your father she +was describin'. We all three knowed somethin' that you didn't know, +an' it's only fair fer me to tell you the truth, now that she's +out of the way. That girl was Viola Gwyn, an' she's your half-sister." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +REFLECTIONS AND AN ENCOUNTER + + +The sun was barely above the eastward wall of trees when Kenneth and +his man rode away from the home of Phineas Striker. Their progress +was slow and arduous, for the black mud was well up to the fetlocks +of the horses in this new road across the boggy clearing. He rode +ahead, as was the custom, followed a short distance behind by his +servant on the strong, well-laden pack-horse. + +The master was in a thoughtful, troubled mood. He paid little +attention to the glories of the fresh spring day. What he had just +heard from the lips of the settler disturbed him greatly. That +beautiful girl his half-sister! The child of his own father and the +hated Rachel Carter! Rachel Carter, the woman he had been brought +up to despise, the harlot who had stolen his father away, the scarlet +wanton at whose door the death of his mother was laid! That evil +woman, Rachel Carter! + +Could she, this foulest of thieves, be the mother of so lovely, so +sensitive, so perfect a creature as Viola Gwyn? + +As he rode frowningly along, oblivious to the low chant of the +darkey and the song of the first spring warblers, he revisualized +the woman he had known in his earliest childhood. Strangely enough, +the face of Rachel Carter had always remained more firmly, more +indelibly impressed upon his memory than that of his own mother. + +This queer, unusual circumstance may be easily, reasonably accounted +for: his grandfather's dogged, almost daily lessons in hate. He was +not allowed to forget Rachel Carter,--not for one instant. Always +she was kept before him by that bitter, vindictive old man who was +his mother's father,--even up to the day that he lay on his deathbed. +Small wonder, then, that his own mother's face had faded from his +memory while that of Rachel Carter remained clear and vivid, as he +had known it now for twenty years. The passing years might perforce +bring about changes in the face and figure of Rachel Carter, but +they could not, even in the smallest detail, alter the picture his +mind's eye had carried so long and faithfully. He could think of +her only as she was when he last saw her, twenty years ago: tall +and straight, with laughing eyes and white teeth, and the colour +of tan-bark in her cheeks. + +Then there had been little Minda,--tiny Minda who existed vaguely +as a name, nothing more. He had a dim recollection of hearing his +elders say that the babe with the yellow curls had been drowned +when a boat turned over far away in the big brown river. Some one +had come to his grandfather's house with the news. He recalled +hearing the talk about the accident, and his grandfather lifting +his fist toward the sky and actually blaming God for something! He +never forgot that. His grandfather had blamed God! + +He had thought of asking Striker about his father's widow, after +hearing the truth about Viola, but a stubborn pride prevented. It +had been on his tongue to inquire when and where Robert Gwynne and +Rachel Carter were married,--he did not doubt that they had been +legally married,--but he realized in time that in all probability +the settler, as well as every one else in the community, was totally +uninformed as to the past life of Robert and Rachel Gwynne. Besides, +the query would reveal an ignorance on his part that he was loath +to expose to speculation. + +Striker had explained the somewhat distasteful scrutiny to which +he had been subjected the night before. All three of them, knowing +him to be Viola's blood relation, were studying his features with +interest, seeking for a trace of family resemblance, not alone +to his father but to the girl herself. This had set him thinking. +There was not, so far as he could determine, the slightest likeness +between him and his beautiful half-sister; there was absolutely +nothing to indicate that their sire was one and the same man. + +Pondering, he now understood what Striker meant in declaring that +he ought to know the truth about the frustrated elopement. Even +though the honest settler was aware of the strained relations existing +between the widow and her husband's son by a former wife,--(the +deceased in his will had declared in so many words that he owed more +than mere reparation to the neglected but unforgotten son born to +him and his beloved but long dead wife, Laura Gwynne),--even though +Striker knew all this, it was evident that he looked upon this son +as the natural protector of the wilful girl, notwithstanding the +feud between step-mother and step-son. + +And Kenneth, as he rode away, felt a new weight of responsibility +as unwelcome to him as it was certain to be to Viola; for, when +all was said and done, she was her mother's daughter and as such +doubtless looked upon him through the mother's eyes, seeing a common +enemy. Still, she was his half-sister, and whether he liked it or +not he was morally bound to stand between her and disaster,--and if +Striker was right, marriage with the wild Lapelle spelled disaster +of the worst kind. He had only to recall, however, the unaccountable +look of hostility with which she had favoured him more than once +during the evening to realize that he was not likely to be called +upon for either advice or protection. + +He mused aloud, with the shrug of a philosopher: "Heigh-ho! I fear +me I shall have small say as to the conduct of this newly found +relation. The only tie that bound us is gone. She is not only +the child of my father, whom she feared and perhaps hated, but of +mine enemy, whom she loves,--so the case is clear. There is a wall +between us, and I shall not attempt to surmount it. What a demnition +mess it has turned out to be. I came prepared to find only the +creature I have scorned and despised, and I discover that I have +a sister so beautiful that, not knowing her at all, my eyes are +dazzled and my heart goes to thumping like any silly school boy's. +Aye, 'tis a very sorry pass. Were it not so demned upsetting, +it would be amusing. Fate never played a wilder prank. What, ho, +Zachariah! Where are we now? Whose farm is that upon the ridge?" + +Zachariah, urging his horse forward, consulted his memory. Striker +had mentioned the farms they were to pass en route, and the features +by which they were to be identified. Far away on a rise in the +sweep of prairie-land stood a lonely cabin, with a clump of trees +behind it. + +"Well, Marse Kenneth, ef hit ain' de Sherry place hit shorely am de +Sheridan place, an' ef hit ain't nuther one o' dem hit mus' belong +to Marse Dimmit er---" + +"It is neither of these, you rascal. We are to the north of them, +if I remember our directions rightly. Mr. Hollingsworth and the +Kisers live hereabouts, according to Phineas Striker. A house with +a clump of trees,--it is Mr. Huff's farm. Soon we will come to the +Martin and Talbot places, and then the land that is mine, Zachariah. +It lies for the most part on this side of the Crawfordsville road." + +"Is yo' gwine to stop dere, Marse Kenneth?" + +"No. I shall ride out from town some day soon to look the place over," +said his master with a pardonable lordliness of mien, becoming to +a landed gentleman. "Our affairs at present lie in the town, for +there is much to be settled before I take charge. Striker tells me +the man who is farming the place is an able, honest fellow. I shall +not disturb him. From what he says, my property is more desirable +in every way than the land that fell to my father's widow. Her +farm lies off to our left, it seems, and reaches almost to the +bottomlands of the river. We, Zachariah, are out here in the fertile +prairie land. Our west line extends along the full length of her +property. So, you see, the only thing that separates the two farms +is an imaginary line no wider than your little finger, drawn by +a surveyor and established by law. You will observe, my faithful +fellow,--assuming that you are a faithful fellow,--that as we +draw farther away from the woods along the river, the road becomes +firmer, the soil less soggy, the--If you will cast your worthless +eye about you, instead of at these mud-puddles, you will also +observe the vast fields of stubble, the immense stretches of corn +stalks and the signs of spring ploughing on all sides. Truly 'tis +a wonderful country. See yon pasture, Zachariah, with the cows and +calves,--a good score of them. And have you, by the way, noticed +what a glorious day it is? This is life!" + +"Yas, suh, Marse Kenneth, Ah done notice dat, an' Ah done notice +somefin ailse. Ah done notice dem buzzards flyin' low over yan way. +Dat means death, Marse Kenneth. Somefin sho' am daid over yan way." + +"You are a melancholy croaker, Zachariah. You see naught but the +buzzards, when all about you are the newly come birds of spring, +the bluebird, the robin, and the thrush. Soon the meadow lark will +be in the fields, and the young quail and the prairie-hen." + +"Yas, suh," agreed Zachariah, brightening, "an' de yaller-hammer +an' de blue-jay an' de--an' de rattlesnake," he concluded, with a +roving, uneasy look along the roadside. + +"Do not forget the saucy parroquets we saw yesterday as we came +through the forest. You went so far in your excitement over those +little green and golden birds, with their scarlet heads, that you +declared they reminded you of the Garden of Eden. Look about you, +Zachariah. Here is the Garden of Eden, right at your feet. Do you +see those plum trees over yonder? Well, sir, old Adam and Eve used +to sit under those very trees during the middle of the day, resting +themselves in the shade. And right over there behind that big rock +is where the serpent had his nest. He gave Eve a plum instead of +an apple, because Eve was especially fond of plums and did not care +at all for apples. She--" + +"'Scuse me, Marse Kenneth, but dem is hawthorn trees," said Zachariah, +grinning. + +"So they are, so they are. Now that I come to think of it, it +was the red-haw that Eve fancied more than any other fruit in the +garden." + +"Yas, suh,--an' ole Adam he was powerful fond ob snappin'-turtles +fo' breakfas'," said Zachariah, pointing to a tortoise creeping +slowly along the ditch. "An' lil Cain an' Abel,--my lan', how dem +chillum used to gobble up de mud pies ole Mammy Eve used to make +right out ob dish yere road we's ridin' on." + +And so, in this sportive mood, master and man, warmed by the golden +sun and cheered by the spring wind of an April morn, traversed this +new-found realm of Cerus, forded the turbulent, swollen creek that +later on ran through the heart of the Gwynne acres, and came at +length to the main road leading into the town. + +They passed log cabins and here and there pretentious frame houses +standing back from the road in the shelter of oak and locust +groves. Their passing was watched by curious women and children +in dooryards and porches, while from the fields men waved greeting +and farewell with the single sweep of a hat. On every barn door +the pelts of foxes and raccoons were stretched and nailed. + +Presently they drew near to a lane reaching off to the west, and +apparently ending in a wooded knoll, a quarter of a mile away. + +"There," said Kenneth, with a wave of his hand, "is where I shall +some day erect a mansion, Zachariah, that will be the wonder and the +envy of all the people in the country. For unless I am mistaken, that +is the grove of oaks that Striker mentioned. Behold, Zachariah,--all +that is mine. Four hundred acres of as fine farm-land as there is +in all the world, and timber unparalleled. Yes, I am right. There +is the house that Striker described, the place where my father +lived he first came to the Wea. Egad, 'tis not a regal palace, is +it, Zachariah? The most imposing thing about it is the chimney." + +They were gazing at a cabin that squatted meekly over against the +wall of oaks. Its roof was barely visible above the surrounding +stockade, while the barn and styes and sheds were hidden entirely +beyond the slope. It was, in truth, the most primitive and +insignificant house they had seen that day. + +"He was one of the first to build in this virgin waste," mused the +young man aloud. "Rough and parlous were the days when he came to +this land, Zachariah. There was no town of Lafayette, no neighbours +save the rude, uncultured trappers. Now see how the times have +changed. And, mark my guess, Zachariah, there will be still greater +changes before we are laid away. There will be cities and--Ha! +Look, Zachariah,--to the right of the grove. It is all as Striker +said. There is the other house,--two miles or more to the westward. +That is HER house. It is new, scarce two years old, built of lumber +instead of logs, and quite spacious. There are, he tells me, two +stories, containing four rooms, with a kitchen off the back, a +smoke-house and a granary besides the barn,--yes, I see them all, +just as he said we should see them after we rounded the grove." + +He drew rein and gazed at the distant house, set on a ridge and +backed by the seemingly endless forest that stretched off to the +north and south. His face clouded, his jaw was set, and his eyes +were hard. + +"Yes, that would be Rachel Carter's house," he continued, harshly. +"Her land and my land lying side by side, with only a fence between. +Her grain and my grain growing out of the same soil. What an unholy +trick for fate to play. Perhaps she is over there, even now. She +and Viola. It is not likely that they would have started for town +at an earlier hour than this. And to think of the damnable situation +I shall find in town. She will be my neighbour,--just as she was +twenty years ago. We shall live within speaking distance of each +other, we shall see each other perhaps a dozen times a day, and +yet we may neither speak nor see. Egad, I wonder what I'll do if +she even attempts to address me! Heigh-ho! 'Tis the mischief of +Satan himself. Come, Zachariah,--you lazy rascal! As if you had +not slept soundly all night long, you must now fall asleep sitting +bolt upright in the saddle." + +And so on they rode again, at times breaking into a smart canter +where the road was solid, but for the most part proceeding with +irksome slowness through the evil slough. Ahead lay the dense wood +they were to traverse before coming to the town. Soon the broad, +open prairie would be behind them, they would be plunged into the +depths of a forest primeval, wending their way through five miles +of solitude to the rim of the vale in which the town was situated. +But the forest had no terrors for them. They were accustomed to the +long silences, the sombre shades, the seemingly endless stretches +of wildwood wherein no mortal dwelt. They had come from afar and +they were young, and hardy, and fearless. Beyond that wide wall of +trees lay journey's end; a new life awaited them on the other side +of the barrier forest. + +Suddenly Zachariah called his master's attention to a horseman who +rode swiftly, even recklessly across the fields to their left and +well ahead of them. They watched the rider with interest, struck by +the furious pace he was holding, regardless of consequences either +to himself or his steed. + +"Mus' be somebody pow'ful sick, Marse Kenneth, fo' dat man to be +ridin' so fas'," remarked Zachariah. + +"Going for a doctor, I sup--Begad, he must have come from Rachel +Carter's farm! There is no other house in sight over in that +direction. I wonder if--" He did not complete the sentence, but +frowned anxiously as he looked over his shoulder at the distant +house. + +Judging by the manner and the direction in which he was galloping, +the rider would reach the main road a quarter of a mile ahead of +them, about at the point where it entered the wood. Kenneth now +made out an unfenced wagon-road through the field, evidently a +short-cut from Rachel Carter's farm to the highway. He permitted +himself a faint, sardonic smile. This, then, was to be her means +of reaching the highway rather than to use the lane that ran past +his house and no doubt crossed a section of his farm. + +Sure enough the horseman turned into the road some distance ahead +of them and rode straight for the forest. Then, for the first time, +Gwynne observed a second rider, motionless at the roadside, and in +the shadow of the towering, leafless trees that marked the portal +through which they must enter the forest. The flying horseman slowed +down as he neared this solitary figure, coming to a standstill when +he reached his side. A moment later, both riders were cantering +toward the wood, apparently in excited, earnest conversation. A +few rods farther on, both turned to look over their shoulders at +the slow-moving travellers. Then they stopped, wheeled about, and +stood still, awaiting their approach. + +Kenneth experienced a poignant thrill of apprehension What was he +to expect: a friendly or a sanguinary encounter? He slipped his +right hand into the saddle pocket and drew forth a pistol which he +shoved hastily inside his waistcoat, covering the stock with the +folds of his cape. + +"Keep a little way behind me," he said to his servant, a trace of +excitement in his voice. + +"Yas, suh," said Zachariah, with more alacrity than valour, the +whites of his eyes betraying something more than a readiness to +obey this conservative order. It was a foregone conclusion that +Zachariah would turn tail and flee the instant there was a sign +of danger. "Slave hunters, Marse Kenneth, dat's what dey is," he +announced with conviction. "Ah c'n smell 'em five miles away. Yas, +suh,--dey's gwine a' make trouble fo' you, Marse Kenneth, sho' as +you is--" But by this time he had dropped so far behind that his +opinions were valueless. + +When not more than fifty yards separated the two parties, one +of the men, with a word and an imperative jerk of the head to his +companion, advanced slowly to meet Kenneth. This man was the one +who had waited for the other at the edge of the wood. + +Gwynne beheld a tall, strongly built young man who rode his horse +with the matchless grace of an Indian. Although his companion was +roughly dressed and wore a coon-skin cap, this man was unmistakably +a dandy. His high beaver hat observed a jaunty, rakish tilt; his +brass-buttoned coat was the colour of wine and of the latest fashion, +while his snug fitting pantaloons were the shade of the mouse. He +wore no cumbersome cape, but fashioned about his neck and shoulders +was a broad, sloping collar of mink. There were silver spurs on +his stout riding boots, and the wide cuffs of his gauntlets were +embroidered in silver. + +He was a handsome fellow of the type described as dashing. Dark +gleaming eyes peered out beneath thick black eyebrows which met in +an unbroken line above his nose. Set in a face of unusual pallor, +they were no doubt rendered superlatively brilliant by contrast. His +skin was singularly white above the bluish, freshly shaven cheeks +and chin. His hair was black and long and curling. The thin lips, +set and unsmiling, were nevertheless drawn up slightly at one +corner of the mouth in what appeared to be a permanent stamp of +superiority and disdain,--or even contempt. Altogether, a most striking +face, thought Gwynne,--and the man himself a person of importance. +The very manner in which he jerked his head to his companion was +proof enough of that. + +"Good morning," said this lordly gentleman, bringing his horse +to a standstill and raising his "gad" to the brim of his hat in a +graceful salute. + +Gwynne drew rein alongside. He had observed in a swift glance that +the stranger was apparently unarmed, except for the short, leather +gad. + +"Good morning," he returned. "I am on the right road to Lafayette, +I take it." "You are," said the other. "From Crawfordsville way?" + +"Yes. I left that place yesterday. I come from afar, however. This +is a strange country to me." + +"It is strange to most of us. Unless I am mistaken, sir, you are +Mr. Kenneth Gwynne." + +The other smiled. "My approach appears to be fairly well heralded. +Were I a vain person I should feel highly complimented." + +"Then you ARE Kenneth Gwynne?" said the stranger, rather curtly. + +"Yes. That is my name." + +"Permit me to make myself known to you. My name is Lapelle,--Barry +Lapelle. While mine no doubt is unfamiliar to you, yours is well +known to me. In fact, it is known to every one in these parts. You +have long been expected. You will find the town anxiously awaiting +your appearance." He smiled slightly. "If you could arrange to arrive +after nightfall, I am sure you would find bonfires and perhaps a +torchlight procession in your honour. As it is, I rather suspect +our enterprising citizen, Mr. William Smith, will fire a salute +when you appear in view." + +"A salute?" exclaimed Kenneth blankly. + +"A joyful habit of his, but rather neglected of late. It used to +be his custom, I hear, to put a charge of powder in a stump and +set it off whenever a steamboat drew up to the landing. That was +his way of letting the farmers for miles around know that a fresh +supply of goods had arrived and they were to hurry in and do the +necessary trading at the store. He almost blew himself and his +store to Hallelujah a year or two ago, and so he isn't quite so +enterprising as he was. I am on my way to town, Mr. Gwynne, so if +you do not mind, I shall give myself the pleasure of riding along +with you for a short distance. I shall have to leave you soon, +however, as I am due in the town by ten o'clock. You are too heavily +laden, I see, to travel at top speed,--and that is the way I am +obliged to ride, curse the luck. When I have set you straight at the +branch of the roads a little way ahead, I shall use the spurs,--and +see you later on." + +"You are very kind. I will be pleased to have you jog along with +me." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BARRY LAPELLE + + +So this was Barry Lapelle. This was the wild rake who might yet +become his brother-in-law, and whose sprightly enterprise had been +frustrated by a woman who had, herself, stolen away in the dark of +a far-off night. + +As they rode slowly along, side by side, into the thick of the +forest, Kenneth found himself studying the lover's face. He looked +for the signs of the reckless dissipated life he was supposed +to have led,--and found them not. Lapelle's eyes were bright and +clear, his skin unblemished, his hand steady, his infrequent smile +distinctly engaging. The slight, disdainful twist never left the +corner of his mouth, however. It lurked there as a constant reminder +to all the world that he, Barry Lapelle, was a devil of a fellow +and was proud of it. While he was affable, there was no disguising +the fact that he was also condescending. Unquestionably he was +arrogant, domineering, even pompous at times, absolutely sure of +himself. + +He spoke with a slight drawl, in a mellow, agreeable voice, and +with meticulous regard for the King's English,--an educated youth +who had enjoyed advantages and associations uncommon to young men +of the frontier. His untanned face testified to a life of ease and +comfort, spent in sheltered places and not in the staining open, +where sun and wind laid bronze upon the skin. A lordly fellow, decided +Kenneth, and forthwith took a keen dislike for him. Nevertheless, +it was not difficult to account for Viola's interest in him; nor, +to a certain extent, the folly which led her to undertake the exploit +of the night before. Barry Lapelle would have his way with women. + +"You come from Kentucky, Mr. Gwynne," Lapelle was saying. "I +am from Louisiana. My father came up to St. Louis a few years ago +after establishing a line of steamboats between Terre Haute and the +gulf. Two of our company's boats come as far north as Lafayette, +so I spend considerable of my time there at this season of the +year. You will find, sir, a number of Kentucky and Virginia people +in this part of the state. Splendid stock, some of them. I understand +you have spent several years in the East, at college and in pursuit +of your study of the law." + +"Principally in New York and Philadelphia," responded the other, +subduing a smile. "My fame seems to have preceded me, Mr. Lapelle. +Even in remote parts of the country I find my arrival anticipated. +The farmer with whom I spent the night was thoroughly familiar with +my affairs." + +"You are an object of interest to every one in this section," said +Lapelle, indifferently. "Where did you spend the night?" + +"At the farm of a man named Striker,--Phineas Striker." + +Lapelle started. His body appeared to stiffen in the saddle. + +"Phineas Striker?" he exclaimed, with a swift, searching look into +the speaker's eyes. Suddenly a flush mantled his cheek. "You were +at Phineas Striker's last night?" + +"Yes. We had lost our way and came to his place just before the +storm," said Kenneth, watching his companion narrowly. Lapelle's +face was a study. Doubt, indecision, even dismay, were expressed +in swift succession. + +"Then you must have met,--but no, it isn't likely," he said, in +some confusion. + +Kenneth hesitated a moment, enjoying the other's discomfiture. Then +he said: "I met no one there except my sister, who also happened +to be spending the night with the Strikers." + +The colour faded from Lapelle's face, leaving it a sickly white. +"Were you in any way responsible for--well, for her departure, Mr. +Gwynne?" he demanded, his eyes flaming with swift, sudden anger. + +"I was not aware of her departure until I arose this morning, Mr. +Lapelle. Striker informed me that she went away before sunrise." + +For a moment Lapelle glared at him suspiciously, and then gave vent +to a short, contemptuous laugh. + +"A thousand apologies," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I might +have known you would not be consulted." + +"I never laid eyes on my half-sister until last night," said +Kenneth, determined to hold his temper. "It is not likely that she +would have asked the advice of a total stranger, is it? Especially +in so simple a matter as going home when she felt like it." + +Lapelle shrugged his shoulders again. "I quite forgot that you are +a lawyer, Mr. Gwynne," he said, drily. "Is it your purpose to hang +out your shingle in the town of Lafayette?" + +"My plans are indefinite." + +"You could do worse, I assure you. The town is bound to grow. It +will be an important town in a very few years." And so the subject +uppermost in the minds of both was summarily dismissed. + +They came at last to the point where a road branched off to the +right. The stillness was intense. There was no sign of either +human or animal life in the depths of this wide, primeval forest. + +"Follow this road," said Lapelle, pointing straight ahead. "It will +take you into the town. You will find the bridge over Durkee's Run +somewhat shaky after the rain, but it is safe. I must leave you +here. I shall no doubt see you at Johnson's Inn, in case you intend +to stop there. Good morning, sir." + +He lifted his hat and, touching the spirited mare with the gad, rode +swiftly away. A few hundred feet ahead he overtook his mud-spattered +friend and the two of them were soon lost to sight among the trees. + +Kenneth fell into profound cogitation. Evidently Lapelle had waited +at the edge of the forest for a report of some description from the +farmhouse belonging to Rachel Carter. In all probability Viola was +still at the farm with her mother, and either she had sent a message +to her lover or had received one from him. Or, it was possible, +Lapelle had despatched his man to the farmhouse to ascertain +whether the girl was there, or had been hurried on into the town +by her mother. In any case, the disgruntled lover was not content +to acknowledge himself thwarted or even discouraged by the +miscarriage of his plans of the night just ended. Kenneth found +himself wondering if the incomprehensible Viola would prove herself +to be equally determined. If so, they would triumph over opposition +and be married, whether or no. He was conscious of an astounding, +almost unbelievable desire to stand with Rachel Carter in her hour +of trouble. + +His thoughts went back, as they had done more than once that +morning, to Viola's artful account of his own father. He had felt +sorry for her during and after the recital and now, with the truth +revealed to him, he was even more concerned than before,--for he +saw unhappiness ahead of her if she married this fellow Lapelle. +He went even farther back and recalled his own caustic opinions +of certain young rakes he had known in the East, wherein he had +invariably asseverated that if he "had a sister he would sooner +see her dead than married to that rascal." Well,--here he was with +a sister,--and what was he to do about it? + +Zachariah, observing the dark frown upon his master's face, and +receiving no answer to a thrice repeated question, fell silent +except for the almost inaudible hymn with which he invited consolation. + +From afar in the thick wood now came the occasional report of a +gun, proof that hunters were abroad. Many times Kenneth was roused +from his reverie by the boom and whiz of pheasants, or the ring of +a woodman's axe, or the lively scurrying of ground squirrels across +his path. They forded three creeks before emerging upon a boggy, +open space, covered with a mass of flattened, wind-broken reeds +and swamp grass, in the centre of which lay a wide, still bayou +partially fringed by willows with the first sickly signs of spring +upon them in the shape of timid mole-ear leaves. Beyond the bridge +over the canal-like stream which fed the bayou was a ridge of hills +along whose base the road wound with tortuous indecision. + +The first log cabin they had seen since entering the wood nestled +among the scrub oaks of the hill hard by. The front wall of the hut +was literally covered with the pegged-up skins of foxes, raccoons +and what were described to Kenneth as the hides of "linxes," but +which, in reality, were from the catamount. A tall, bewhiskered +man, smoking a corncob pipe, leaned upon the rail fence, regarding +the strangers with lazy interest. + +Kenneth drew rein and inquired how far it was to Lafayette. + +"'Bout two mile an' a half," replied the man. "My name is Stain, +Isaac Stain. I reckon you must be Mister Kenneth Gwynne. I heerd +you'd be along this way some time this mornin'." + +"I suppose Mr. Lapelle informed you that I was coming along behind," +said Kenneth, smiling. + +"'Twuzn't Barry Lapelle as told me. I hain't seen him to-day." + +"Didn't he pass here within the hour?" + +"Nope," was the laconic response. + +"I met him back along the road. He was coming this way." + +"Must 'a' changed his mind." + +"He probably took another road." + +"There hain't no other road. I reckon he turned off into the wood +an' 'lowed you to pass," said Mr. Stain slowly. + +"But he was in great haste to reach town. He may have passed when +you were not--" + +"He didn't pass this place unless he was astraddle of an eagle er +somethin' like that," declared the other, grinning. "An' even then +he'd have to be flyin' purty doggone high ef I couldn't see him. +Nope. I guess he took to the woods, Mr. Gwynne, for one reason er +'nother,--an' it must ha' been a mighty good reason, 'cause from +what I know about Barry Lapelle he allus knows which way he's goin' +to leap long before he leaps. He's sorter like a painter in that +way." + +Kenneth, knowing that he meant panther when he said painter, was +properly impressed. + +"It is very strange," he said, frowning. It was suddenly revealed +to him that if Lapelle had tricked him it was because the messenger +had brought word from Viola, at the farmhouse, and that the baffled +lovers might even now be laying fresh plans to outwit the girl's +mother. This fear was instantly dissipated by the next remark of +Isaac Stain. + +"Nope. It wuzn't him that told me about you, pardner. It wuz Violy +Gwyn. She went by here with her ma, jes' as I wuz startin' off to +look at my traps,--'long about seven o'clock, I reckon,--headed +for town. She sez to me, sez she: 'Ike, there'll be a young man +an' a darkey boy come ridin' this way some time this forenoon an' +I want you to give him a message for me.' 'With pleasure,' sez I; +'anything you ask,' sez I. 'Well,' sez she, 'it's this. Fust you +ask him ef his name is Kenneth Gwynne, an 'ef he sez it is, then +you look an' see ef he is a tall feller an' very good-lookin', +without a beard, an' wearin' a blue cape, an' when you see that he +answers that description, why, you tell him to come an' see me as +soon as he gits to town. Tell him it's very important.' 'All right,' +sez I, 'I'll tell him.'" + +"Where was her mother all this time?" + +"Settin' right there in the buggy beside her, holdin' the reins. +Where else would she be?" + +"Did she say anything about my coming to see her daughter?" + +"Nope. She never said anythin' 'cept 'Good mornin', Ike,' an' I +sez 'Good mornin', Mrs. Gwyn.' She don't talk much, she don't. You +see, she's in mournin' fer her husband. I guess he wuz your pa, +wuzn't he?" + +"Yes," said Kenneth briefly. "Was there anything else?" + +"Nothin' to amount to anything. Violy sez, 'When did you get the +linx skins, Ike?' an' I sez, 'Last Friday, Miss Violy,' an' she +sez, 'Ain't they beautiful?' an' I sez--" + +"She wants me to come to her house?" broke in Kenneth, his brow +darkening. + +"I reckon so." + +"Well, I thank you, Mr. Stain. You are very kind to have waited so +long for me to arrive. I--" + +"Oh, I'd do a whole lot more'n that fer her," said the hunter +quickly. "You see, I've knowed her ever since she wuz knee-high +to a duck. She wuzn't more'n five or six when I brung her an' her +folks up the Wabash in my perogue, all the way from Vincennes, an' +it wuz me that took her down to St. Louis when she went off to +school--her an' some friends of her pa's. Skinny, gangling sort +of a young 'un she wuz, but let me tell you, as purty as a picter. +I allus said she'd be the purtiest woman in all creation when she +got her growth an' filled out, an', by hokey, I wuz right. Yes, +sir, I used to run a boat on the river down below, but I give it +up quite awhile ago an' come up here to live like a gentleman." +He waved his hand proudly over his acre and a half estate. "I wuz +talkin' to Bill Digby not long ago an' he sez this is a wonderful +location for a town, right here at the fork of two o' the best +fishin' cricks in the state. An' Bill he'd ort to know, 'cause he's +laid out more towns than anybody I know of. The only trouble with +Bill is that as soon as he lays 'em out somebody comes along an' +offers him a hundred dollars er so fer 'em, er a team of hosses, +er a good coon dog, an' he up an' sells. Now, with me, I--Got to +be movin' along, have you? Well, good-bye, an' be a little keerful +when you come to Durkee's Run bridge. It's kinder wobbly." + +They were fording a creek some distance beyond Stain's cabin when +Kenneth broke the silence that had followed the conversation with +the hunter by exploding violently: + +"Under no circumstances,--and that's all there is to it." + +Zachariah, ever ready to seize an opportunity to raise his voice, +either in expostulation or agreement, took this as a generous +opening. He exclaimed with commendable feeling: + +"Yas, suh! Undeh no suckemstances! No, suh!" + +"It is not even to be thought of," declared his master, frowning +heavily. + +"No, suh! We can't even think about it, Marse Kenneth," said +Zachariah, a trifle less decisively. + +"So that is the end of it,--absolutely the end." + +"Dat's what Ah say,--yas, suh, dat's what Ah say all along, suh!" + +His master suddenly turned upon him. "I cannot go to that woman's +house. It is unthinkable, Zachariah." + +Zachariah began to see light. "Yo' all got to be mighty car'ful +'bout dese yere strange women, Marse Kenneth. Don' you forget what +done happen in 'at ole Garden of Eden. Dis yere old Eve, she--" + +"Still I am greatly relieved to know that she is in town and not +out on the farm. It is a relief, isn't it, Zachariah?" + +"Yas, suh,--hit sho'ly am." + +They progressed slowly up a long hill and came to an extensive +clearing, over which perhaps half a dozen farmhouses were scattered. +Beyond this open space they entered a narrow strip of wood and, +upon emerging, had their first glimpse of the Wabash River. + +Stopping at the brow of the hill, they looked long and curiously +over the valley into which they were about to descend. The panorama +was magnificent. To the left flowed the swollen, turgid river, +high among the willows and sycamores that guarded the low-lying +bank. Far to the north it could be seen, a clayish, ugly monster, +crawling down through the heart of the bowl-like depression. Mile +after mile of sparsely wooded country lay revealed to the gaze of +the travellers, sunken between densely covered ridges, one on either +side of the river. Half a mile beyond where they stood feathery +blue plumes of smoke rose out of the tree tops and, dispersing, +floated away on the breeze,--and there lay the town of Lafayette, +completely hidden from view. + +The road wound down the hill and across a clumsily constructed bridge +spanning the Run and thence along the flat shelf that rimmed the +bottom-land, through a maze of wild plum and hazel brush squatting, +as it were, at the feet of the towering forest giants that covered +the hills. + +Presently the travellers came upon widely separated cabins +and gardens, and then, after passing through a lofty grove, found +themselves entering the town itself. Signs of life and enterprise +greeted them from all sides. Here, there and everywhere houses were +in process of erection,--log-cabins, frame structures, and even an +occasional brick dwelling-place. Turning into what appeared to be +a well-travelled road,--(he afterwards found it to be Wabash Street), +Kenneth came in the course of a few minutes to the centre of the +town. Here was the little brick courthouse and the jail, standing +in the middle of a square which still contained the stumps of many +of the trees that originally had flourished there. At the southwest +corner of the square was the tavern, a long story and a half log +house,--and it was a welcome sight to Gwynne and his servant, both +of whom were ravenously hungry by this time. + +The former observed, with considerable satisfaction, that there were +quite a number of substantial looking buildings about the square, +mostly stores, all of them with hitching-racks along the edge of the +dirt sidewalks. As far as the eye could reach, in every direction, +the muddy streets were lined with trees. + +Half a dozen men were standing in front of the tavern when the +newcomers rode up. Kenneth dismounted and threw the reins to his +servant. Landlord Johnson hurried out to greet him. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE END OF THE LONG ROAD + + +"We've been expecting you, Mr. Gwynne," he said in his most genial +manner. "Step right in. Dinner'll soon be ready, and I reckon +you must be hungry. Take the hosses around to the stable, nigger, +and put 'em up. I allowed you'd be delayed some by the bad roads, +but I guess you must have got a late start this mornin' from Phin +Striker's. Mrs.--er--ahem! I mean your step-mother sent word that +you were on the way and to have accommodations ready for you. Say, +I'd like to make you acquainted with--" + +"My step-mother sent word to you?" demanded Kenneth, incredulously. + +"She did. What would you expect her to do, long as she knew you +were headed this way? I admit she isn't specially given to worryin' +about other people's comforts, but, when you get right down to it, +I guess she considers you a sort of connection of hers, spite of +everything, and so she lays herself out a little. But I want to tell +you one thing, Mr. Gwynne, you're not going to find her particularly +cordial, as the sayin' is. She's about as stand-offish and +unneighbourly as a Kickapoo Indian. But, as I was sayin', I'd like +to make you acquainted with some of our leadin' citizens. This is +Daniel Bugher, the recorder, and Doctor Davis, Matt Scudder, Tom +Benbridge and John McCormick. It was moved and seconded, soon as +you heaved in sight, that we repair at once to Sol Hamer's grocery +for a little--" + +"Excuse me," broke in Kenneth, laughing; "I have heard of that +grocery, and I think it would be wise for me to become a little better +acquainted with my surroundings before I begin trading there." + +The landlord rubbed his chin and the other gentlemen laughed +uproariously. + +"Well," said the former, "I can see one thing mighty plain. You're +going to be popular with my wife and all the other women in town. +They'll point to you and say to practically nine-tenths of the +married men in Lafayette: 'There's a man that don't drink, and +goodness knows HE isn't a preacher!'" + +"I am hardly what you would call a teetotaler, gentlemen," said +Gwynne, still smiling. + +"Wait till you get down with a spell of the Wabash shakes," said +Mr. McCormick. "That'll make a new man of him, won't it, Doc?" + +"Depends somewhat on his constitution and the way he was brought +up," said the doctor, with a professional frown which slowly relaxed +into an unprofessional smile. + +"I was brought up by my grandmother," explained Kenneth, vastly +amused. + +"That settles it," groaned Mr. Johnson. "You're not long for this +world. Before we go in I wish you'd take a look at the new courthouse. +We're mighty proud of that building. There isn't a finer courthouse +in the state of Indiana,--or maybe I'd better say there won't +be if it's ever finished." "I noticed it as I came by," said the +newcomer, dismissing the structure with a glance. "If you will +conduct me to my room, Mr. Johnson, I--" + +"Just a second," broke in the landlord, his gaze fixed on a horseman +who had turned into the street some distance below. "Here comes +Barry Lapelle,--down there by that clump of sugar trees. He's the +most elegant fellow we've got in town, and you'll want to know him. +Makes Lafayette his headquarters most of the--" + +"I have met Mr. Lapelle," interrupted Kenneth. "This morning, out +in the country." + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed Johnson. The citizens exchanged a +general look of surprise. + +"Thought you said he went down the river on yesterday's boat," said +Scudder. + +"That's just what he did," said Johnson, puzzled. "Packed some of +his things and said he'd be gone a week or so. He must have got off +at Attica,--but, no, he couldn't have got here this soon by road. +By glory, I hope the boat didn't strike a snag or a rock, or run +ashore somewhere. Looks kind of serious, boys." + +"Couldn't he have landed almost anywhere in a skiff?" inquired +Gwynne, his eyes on the approaching horseman. + +"Certainly he could,--but why? He had business down at Covington, +he said." + +"He told me this morning he had very important business here. +That is why he could not ride in with me," said Kenneth, affecting +indifference. "By the way, is he riding his own horse?" + +"Yes," said Benbridge. "That's his mare Fancy,--thoroughbred +filly by King Philip out of Shawnee Belle. He sent her down to Joe +Fell's to stud yesterday and--Say, that accounts for him being on +her now. You made a good guess, Mr. Gwynne. He must have landed +at La Grange, rowed across the river, and hoofed it up to Fell's +farm. But what do you suppose made him change his mind so suddenly?" + +"He'll probably tell you to go to thunder if you ask him," said +the landlord. + +"I'm not going to ask him anything," retorted Benbridge. + +"He's working tooth and nail against the Wabash and Erie Canal that's +projected to run from Lake Erie to the mouth of the Tippecanoe, +Mr. Gwynne," said one of the citizens. "But it's coming through +in spite of him and all the rest of the river hogs." + +"I see," said the young man, a grim smile playing about his lips. + +He knew that the mare Fancy had been in waiting for her master when +he clambered ashore on the river bank opposite La Grange, and he +also suspected that the little steamboat had remained tied up at +the landing all night long and well into the morning, expecting +two passengers who failed to come aboard. He could not suppress a +chuckle of satisfaction. + +Lapelle rode up at this instant and, throwing the bridle rein to +a boy who had come running up from the stable, dismounted quickly. +He came straight to Gwynne, smiling cordially. + +"I see you beat me in. After we parted I decided to cut through +the woods to have a look at Jack Moxley's keel boat, stuck in the +mud on this side of the river. You'd think the blame fool would +have sense enough to keep well out in mid stream at a time like +this. Happy to have you here with us, and I hope you will like us +well enough to stay." + +"Thank you. I shall like you all better after I have had something +to eat," said Kenneth. + +"And drink," added Lapelle. It was then that Kenneth noticed that +his eyes were slightly blurred and his voice a trifle thick. He +had been drinking. + +"What turned you back, Barry?" inquired McCormick. "Thought you +were to be gone a week or--" + +"Changed my mind," said Lapelle curtly, and then, apparently on +second thought, added: "I got off the boat at La Grange and crossed +over to spend the night at Martin Hawk's, the man you saw with me +this morning, Mr. Gwynne. He is a hunter down Middleton way. I fish +and hunt with him a good deal. Well, I reckon I'd better go in and +get out of these muddy boots and pants." + +Without another word, he strode up the steps, across the porch and +into the tavern, his head high, his gait noticeably unsteady. + +"Martin Hawk!" growled the landlord. "The orneriest cuss this side +of hell. Plain no-good scalawag. Barry'll find it out some day, +and then maybe he'll wish he had paid some attention to what I've +been tellin' him." + +"Wouldn't surprise me a bit if Mart knows a whole lot more about +what became of some mighty good yearlin' colts that used to belong +to honest men down on the Wea," said one of the group, darkly. + +"I wouldn't trust Mart Hawk as far as I could throw a thousand pound +rock," observed Mr. Johnson, compressing his lips. "Well, come on +in, Mr. Gwynne, and slick up a bit. The dinner bell will be ringin' +in a few minutes, and I want you to meet the cook before you risk +eatin' any of her victuals. My wife's the cook, so you needn't look +scared. Governor Noble almost died of over-feedin' the last time +he was here,--but that wasn't her fault. And my daughters, big and +little, seem anxious to get acquainted with the celebrated Kenneth +Gwynne. People have been talkin' so much about you for the last six +months that nearly everybody calls you by your first name, and Jim +Crouch's wife is so taken with it that she has made up her mind to +call her baby Kenneth,--that is, providing nature does the right +thing. Next week some time, ain't it, Doc?" + +"That's what most everybody in town says, Bob," replied the doctor +solemnly, "so I guess it must be true." + +"We begin counting the inhabitants of the town as far as a month +ahead sometimes," explained Mr. McCormick drily. "I don't know as +we've been out of the way more than a day or a day-and-a-half on +any baby that's been born here in the last two years. Hope to see +you in my store down there, Mr. Gwynne--any time you're passing +that way. You can't miss it. It's just across the street from that +white frame building with the green stripes running criss-cross on +the front door,--Joe Hanna's store." + +"Robert Gwyn's son is always welcome at my store and my home," said +another cordially. "We didn't know till last fall that he had a son, +and--well, I hope you don't mind my saying we couldn't believe it +at first." + +"You spell the name different from the way he spelled it," answered +Bugher, the recorder. "I noticed it in your letters, and it struck +me as queer." + +"My father appears to have reverted to the original way of spelling +the name," said Kenneth, from the upper step. "My forebears were +Welsh, you see. The manner of spelling it was changed when they +came to America, over a hundred years ago." + +His bedroom was in the small wing off the dining-room. Its one window +looked out upon the courthouse, the view being somewhat restricted +by the presence of a pair of low-branched oak trees in the side-yard, +almost within arm's length of the wall,--they were so close, in +fact, that their limbs stretched out over the rough shingle roof, +producing in the wind an everlasting sound of scratching and +scraping. There was a huge four-poster feather bed of mountainous +proportions, leaving the occupant scant space in which to move +about the room. + +"Last people to occupy this room," said Mr. Johnson, standing in +the doorway, "were George Ripley and Edna Cole, three weeks ago +last night. They came in from the Grand Prairie and only stayed +the one night. Had to get back to the farm next day on account +of it bein' wash-day. I guess I forgot to say they were on their +weddin'-trip. Generally speaking, it takes about three years +for people to get over callin' a girl by her maiden name,--so you +needn't think there was anything wrong about George and Edna stayin' +here. I wish you could have been here to drive out to the infare +at her pa's house two nights after the weddin'. It was the biggest +ever held on that side of the river,--and as for the shiveree,--my +Lord, it WAS something to talk about. Tin cans, cowbells, shot-guns, +tenor-drums,--but I'm keeping you, Mr. Gwynne. You'll find water +in that jug over there, and a towel by the lookin' glass. Come out +when you're ready." + +When Kenneth returned to the dining-room, he found Johnson waiting +there with his wife and two of his comely daughters. They were +presented to the new guest with due informality, and then the +landlord went out upon the front porch to ring the dinner-bell. + +"I guess you won't be stayin' here long, Mr. Gwynne," said Mrs. +Johnson. "Your mother,--I should say, your step-mother,--has got +your house all ready for you to move right in. Job Turner moved +out last week, and she took some of the furniture and things over +so's you could be sort of at home right away." Observing his start, +and the sudden tightening of his lips, she went on complacently: +"'Twasn't much trouble for her. Your house isn't more than fifty +yards from hers,--just across lots, you might say. She--" + +Kenneth, forgetting himself in his agitation, interrupted her with +the startling question: + +"Where does Rachel Carter live?" + +"Rachel who?" + +He collected his wits, stammering: + +"I believe that was her name before she--before she married my +father." + +"Oh, I see. Her name is Rachel, of course. Well, her house +is up Columbia street,--that's the one on the other side of the +square,--almost to the hill where Isaac Edwards has his brickyard, +just this side of the swamp." + +After dinner, which was eaten at a long table in company with eight +or ten "customers," to whom he was introduced by the genial host, +he repaired to the office of Recorder Bugher. + +"Everything's in good shape," announced Bugher. "There ain't +a claim against the property, now that Mrs. Gwyn has given up her +idea of contesting the will. The property is in your name now, Mr. +Gwynne,--and that reminds me that your father, in his will, spells +your name with a double n and an e, while he spells hers with only +one n. He took into consideration the fact that you spelled your +name in the new-fangled way, as you say he used to spell it in +Kentucky. And that also accounts for his signing the will 'Robert +Gwyn, formerly known as Robert Gwynne.' It's legal, all right, +properly witnessed and attested by two reliable men of this county." + +"I have seen a copy of the will." + +"Another queer thing about it is that he bequeathed certain property +to you as 'my son, Kenneth Gwynne,'--while he fails to mention his +daughter Viola at all, except to say that he bequeaths so-and-so +to 'Rachel Gwyn, to give, bequeath and devise as she sees fit.' Of +course, Viola, by law, is entitled to a share of the estate and it +should have been so designated. Judge Wylie says she can contest +the will if she so desires, on the ground that she is entitled to +as much as you, Mr. Gwynne. But she has decided to let it stand +as it is, and I guess she's sensible. All that her mother now has +will go to her when said Rachel dies, and as it will be a full +half of the estate instead of what might have been only a third, +I guess she's had pretty good advice from some one." + +"The fact that my half-sister was not mentioned in the will naturally +led me to conclude that no such person existed. I did not know till +this morning, Mr. Bugher, that I had a half-sister." + +"Well," began the recorder, pursing his lips, "for that matter she +didn't know she had a half-brother till the will was read, so she +was almost as ignorant as you." + +"It's all very strange,--exceedingly strange." + +"When did your own mother die, if it's a fair question?" + +"In the year 1812. My father was away when she died." + +"Off to the war, I suppose." + +"Yes," said the young man steadily. "Off to the war," he lied, +still staring out of the window. "I was left with my grandparents +when he went off to make his fortune in this new country. It was +not until I was fairly well grown that we heard that he was married +to a woman named Rachel Carter." + +"Well, I guess it's something you don't like to talk about," said +Mr. Bugher, and turned his attention to the records they were +consulting. + +Later the young man called at the office of Mr. Cornell, the lawyer +who had charge of his affairs. He had come to Lafayette prepared to +denounce Rachel Carter, to drive her in shame and disgrace from the +town, if necessary. Now he found himself confronted by a condition +that distressed and perplexed him; his bitter resolve was rudely +shaken and he was in a dire state of uncertainty. He was faced by +a most unexpected and staggering situation. + +To denounce Rachel Carter would be to deliberately strike a +cruel, devastating blow at the happiness and peace of an innocent +person,--Viola Gwyn, his own half-sister. A word from him, and that +lovely girl, serene in her beliefs, would be crushed for life. The +whole scheme of life had been changed for him in the twinkling of +an eye, as it were. He could not wreak vengeance upon Rachel Carter +without destroying Viola Gwyn,--and the mere thought of that caused +him to turn cold with repugnance. How could he publish Rachel Carter's +infamy to the world with that innocent girl standing beside her to +receive and sustain the worst of the shock? Impossible! Viola must +be spared,--and so with her, Rachel Carter! + +Then there was the strange message he had received from Viola, +through the hunter, Stain. What was back of the earnest request for +him to come and see her at her mother's house? Was she in trouble? +Was she in need of his help? Was she depending upon him, her blood +relation, for counsel in an hour of duress? He was sadly beset by +conflicting emotions. + +In the course of his interview with the lawyer, from whom he had +decided to withhold much that he had meant to divulge, he took +occasion to inquire into the present attitude of Rachel Carter,--or +Gwyn, as he reluctantly spoke of her,--toward him, an open and +admitted antagonist. + +"Well," said Cornell, shaking his head, "I don't believe you will +catch her asking any favours of you. She has laid down her arms, +so to speak, but that doesn't mean she intends to be friendly. As +a matter of fact, she simply accepts the situation,--with very bad +grace, of course,--but she'll never be able to alter her nature or +her feelings. She considers herself cheated, and that's all there +is to it. I doubt very much whether she will even speak to you, +Mr. Gwynne. She is a strange woman, and a hard one to understand. +She fought desperately against your coming here at all. One of +her propositions was that she should be allowed to buy your share +of the estate, if such a transaction could be arranged, you will +remember. You declined to consider it. This was after she withdrew +her proposed contest of the will. Then she got certain Crawfordsville +men interested in the purchase of your land, and they made you a +bona fide offer,--I think they offered more than the property is +worth, by the way. I think, back of everything, she could not bear +the thought of you, the son of a former wife, living next door to +her. Jealousy, I suppose,--but not unnatural, after all, in a second +wife, is it? They're usually pretty cantankerous when it comes to +the first wife's children. As regards her present attitude, I think +she'll let you alone if you let her alone." + +"My sister has asked me to come up to the house to see her this +afternoon," said Kenneth. + +The lawyer looked surprised. "Is that so? Well," with a puzzled +frown, "I don't quite understand how she came to do that. I was +under the impression that she felt about as bitterly toward you +as her mother does. In fact, she has said some rather nasty things +about you. Boasted to more than one of her friends that she would +slap your face if you ever tried to speak to her." + +Kenneth smiled, a reminiscent light in his eyes. "She has done +so, figuratively speaking, Mr. Cornell. I am confident she hates +me,--but if that's the case, why should she leave word for me to +come and see her?" + +"Experience has taught me that women have a very definite object +in view when they let on as if they had changed their minds," was +the judicial opinion of Mr. Cornell. "Maybe they don't realize it, +but they are as wily as the devil when they think, and you think, +and everybody else thinks, they're behaving like an angel. It's +not for me to say whether you should go to see her or not, but I +believe I would if I were in your place. Maybe she has made up her +mind to be friendly, on the surface at least, and as you are bound +to meet each other at people's houses, parties, and all such, perhaps +it would be better to bury the hatchet. I think you will be quite +safe in going up there to-day, so far as Mrs. Gwyn is concerned. +She will not appear on the scene, I am confident. You will not come +in contact with her. You say that she has put some of her furniture +at your disposal, but she doubtless did so on the advice of her +lawyer. You must not forget that your father, in his will, left +half of his personal effects to you. She is just smart enough to +select in advance the part that she is willing for you to have, +feeling that you will not be captious about it." + +"I have no desire to exact anything of--" + +"Quite so, quite so," broke in the lawyer. "But she could not be +expected to know that. She is a long-headed woman, Mr. Gwynne. I +suspect she is considerably worried about Viola. Your half-sister +is being rather assiduously courted by a young man named Lapelle. Mrs. +Gwyn does not approve of him. She is strait-laced and--er--puritanical." + +"Puritanical, eh?" said Kenneth, with a short laugh that Mr. Cornell +totally misinterpreted. + +"Barry isn't exactly what you would call sanctimonious," admitted +the lawyer, with a dry smile. "The worst of it is, I'm afraid Viola +is in love with him." + +His client was silent for a moment, reflecting. Then he arose +abruptly and announced: + +"I agree with you, Mr. Cornell. I will go up to see her this +afternoon. I bear her no grudge,--and after all, she is my sister. +Good day, sir. I shall give myself the pleasure of calling in to +see you to-morrow." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +RACHEL CARTER + + +Kenneth strolled about the town for awhile before returning to the +tavern to shave, change his boots, and "smarten" himself up a bit +in preparation for the ceremonious call he had dreaded to make. +On all sides he encountered the friendliest interest and civility +from the townspeople. The news of his arrival had spread over the +place with incredible swiftness. Scores of absolute strangers turned +to him and tendered to him the welcome to be found in a broad and +friendly smile. + +Shortly after three o'clock he set forth upon his new adventure. +Assailed by a strange and unaccustomed timidity,--he would have +called it bashfulness had Viola been other than his sister--he +approached the young lady's home by the longest and most round-about +way, a course which caused him to make the complete circuit of the +three-acre pond situated a short distance above the public square--a +shallow body of water dignified during the wet season of the year +by the high-sounding title of "Lake Stansbury," but spoken of +scornfully as the "slough" after the summer's sun had reduced its +surface to a few scattered wallows, foul and green with scum. It +was now full of water and presented quite an imposing appearance +to the new citizen as he skirted its brush-covered banks; in his +ignorance he was counting the probability of one day building a +handsome home on the edge of this tiny lake. + +A man working in a garden pointed out to him Mrs. Gwyn's house +half-hidden among the trees at the foot of a small slope. + +"That other house, a couple of hundred foot further on,--you +can just see it from here,--well, that belonged to Robert Gwyn. I +understand his long-lost son is comin' to live in it one of these +days. They say this boy when he was a baby was stolen by the Injins +and never heard of ag'in until a few months ago. Lived with the +Injins right up to the time he was found and couldn't speak a word +of English. I have heard that he--what are ye laughin' at, mister?" + +"I was laughing at the thought of how surprised you are going to +be some day, my friend. Thank you. The house with the green window +blinds, you say?" + +He proceeded first to the house that was to be his home. It was a +good stone's throw from the pretentious two-story frame structure in +which Rachel Carter and her daughter lived, but nearer the centre +of the town when approached by a more direct route than he had +followed. This smaller house, an insignificant, weather-beaten +story and a half frame, snuggling among the underbrush, was where +his father had lived when he first came to Lafayette. Later on he +had erected the larger house and moved into it with his family, +renting the older place to a man named Turner. + +It was faced by a crudely constructed picket fence, once white but +now mottled with scales of dirty sun-blistered paint, and inside +the fence rank weeds, burdocks and wild grass flourished without +hindrance. He strode up the narrow path to the low front door. +Finding it unlocked, he opened it and stepped into the low, roughly +plastered sitting-room. The window blinds were open, permitting +light and air to enter, and while the room was comparatively bare, +there was ample evidence that it had been made ready for occupancy +by a hand which, though niggardly, was well trained in the art of +making a little go a long way. The bedroom and the kitchen were +in order. There were rag carpets on the floors, and the place was +immaculately clean. A narrow, enclosed stairway ran from the end +of the sitting-room to the attic, where he discovered a bed for his +servant. Out at the back was the stable and a wagonshed. These he +did not inspect. A high rail fence stretched between the two yards. + +As he walked up the path to the front door of the new house, he +was wondering how Viola Gwyn would look in her garb of black,--the +hated black she had cast aside for one night only. He was oppressed +by a dull, cold fear, assuaged to some extent by the thrill of +excitement which attended the adventure. What was he to do or say +if the door was opened by Rachel Carter? His jaw was set, the palms +of his hands were moist, and there was a strange, tight feeling +about his chest, as if his lungs were full and could not be emptied. +After a moment's hesitation, he rapped firmly on the door with his +bare knuckles. + +The door was opened by a young coloured woman who wore a blue +sunbonnet and carried a red shawl over her arm. + +"Is Miss Viola at home?" he inquired. + +"Is dis Mistah Gwynne, suh?" + +"Yes." + +"Come right in, suh, an' set down." + +He entered a small box of a hallway, opening upon a steep set of +stairs. + +"Right in heah, suh," said the girl, throwing open a door at his +left. + +As he walked into this room, he heard the servant shuffling up the +staircase. He deposited his hat and gloves on a small marble-top +table in the centre of the room and then sent a swift look of +investigation about him. Logs were smouldering in the deep, wide +fireplace at the far end of the room, giving out little spurts +of flame occasionally from their charred, ash-grey skeletons. The +floor was covered with a bright, new rag carpet, and there was a +horse-hair sofa in the corner, and two or three stiff, round-backed +little chairs, the seats also covered with black horse-hair. A +thick, gilt-decorated Holy Bible lay in the centre of the marble-top +table, shamed now by contact with the crown of his unsaintly +hat. On the mantel stood a large, flat mahogany clock with floral +decorations and a broad, white face with vivid black numerals and +long black hands. The walls were covered with a gaudy but expensive +paper, in which huge, indescribable red flowers mingled regularly +with glaring green leaves. Two "mottoes," worked in red and blue +worsted and framed with narrow cross-pieces of oak, hung suspended +in the corners beside the fireplace. One of them read "God Bless +Our Home," the other a sombre line done in black: "Faith, Hope and +Charity." + +Three black oval oak frames, laden with stiff leaves that glistened +under a coat of varnish, contained faded, unlovely portraits,--one +of a bewhiskered man wearing a tall beaver hat and a stiff black +stock: another of a sloping-shouldered woman with a bonnet, from +which a face, vague and indistinct, sought vainly to emerge. The +third contained a mass of dry, brown leaves, some wisps of straw, +and a few colourless pressed blossoms. On a table in front of one +of the two windows stood a spindling Dutch lamp of white and delft +blue, with a long, narrow chimney. There were two candlesticks on +the mantel. + +All these features of the room he took in while he stood beside +the centre table, awaiting the entrance of Viola Gwyn. He heard a +door open softly and close upstairs, and then some one descending +the steps; a few words spoken in the subdued voice of a woman and +the less gentle response of the darky servant, who mumbled "Yas'm," +and an instant later went out by the front door. Through the window +he saw her go down the walk, the red shawl drawn tightly about her +shoulders. + +He smiled. The clever Viola getting rid of the servant so that she +could be alone with him, he thought, as he turned toward the door. + +A tall woman in black appeared in the doorway, paused there for a +second or two, and then advanced slowly into the room. He felt the +blood rush to his head, almost blinding him. His hand went out for +the support of the table, his body stiffened and suddenly turned +cold. The smile with which he intended to greet Viola froze on his +lips. + +"God Al--" started to ooze from his stiff lips, but the words broke +off sharply as the woman stopped a few steps away and regarded +him steadily, silently, unsmilingly. He stood there like a statue +staring into the dark, brilliant eyes, sunken deep under the straight +black eyebrows. Even in the uncertain light from the curtained +windows he could see that her face was absolutely colourless,--the +pallor of death seemed to have been laid upon it. Swiftly she lifted +a hand to her throat, her eyes closed for a second and then flew +wide open again, now filled with an expression of utter bewilderment. + +"Is it--is it you, Robert? Is it really you, or am I--" she murmured, +scarcely above a whisper. Once more she closed her eyes, tightly; +as if to shut out the vision of a ghost,--an unreal thing that +would not be there when she looked again. + +The sound of her voice released him from the brief spell of +stupefaction. + +"I know you. I remember you. You are Rachel Carter," he said +hoarsely. + +She was staring at him as if fascinated. Her lips moved, but no +sound issued from them. + +He hesitated for an instant and then turned to pick up his hat and +gloves. "I came to see your daughter, madame,--as well you know. +Permit me to take my departure." + +"You are so like your--" she began with an effort, her voice deep +and low with emotion. "So like him I--I was frightened. I thought +he had--" She broke off abruptly, lowered her head in an attempt +to hide from him the trembling lips and chin, and to regain, if +possible, the composure that had been so desperately shaken. "Wait!" +she cried, stridently. "Wait! Do not go away. Give me time to--to--" + +"There is no need for us to prolong--" he began in a harsh voice. + +"I will not keep you long," she interrupted, every trace of emotion +vanishing like a shadow that has passed. She was facing him now, +her head erect, her voice steady. Her dark, cavernous eyes were +upon him; he experienced an odd, indescribable sensation,--as of +shrinking,--and without being fully aware of what he was doing, +replaced his hat upon the table, an act which signified involuntary +surrender on his part. + +"Where is Viola?" he demanded sternly. "She left word for me to +come here. Where is she?" + +"She is not here," said the woman. + +He started. "You don't mean she has--has gone away with--" + +"No. She has gone over to spend the afternoon with Effie Wardlow. +I will be frank with you. This is not the time for misunderstanding. +She asked Isaac Stain to give you that message at my request,--or +command, if you want the truth. I sent her away because what I +have to say to you must be said in private. There is no one in the +house besides ourselves. Will you do me the favour to be seated? +Very well; we will stand." + +She turned away to close the hall door. Then she walked to one +of the windows and, drawing the curtain aside, swept the yard and +adjacent roadway with a long, searching look. + +The strong light fell full upon her face; its warmth seemed +suddenly to paint the glow of life upon her pallid skin. He gazed +at her intently. Out of the past there came to him with startling +vividness the face of the Rachel Carter he had known. Despite +the fact that she was now an old woman,--he knew that she must be +at least forty-six or -seven,--she was still remarkably handsome. +She was very tall, deep-chested, and as straight as an arrow. Her +smoothly brushed hair was as black as the raven's wing. Time and +the toil of long, hard hours had brought deep furrows to her cheeks, +like lines chiselled in a face of marble, but they had not broken +the magnificent body of the Rachel Carter who used to toss him +joyously into the air with her strong young arms and sure hands. But +there was left no sign of the broad, rollicking smile that always +attended those gay rompings. Her lips were firm-set, straight and +unyielding,--a hard mouth flanked by what seemed to be absolutely +immovable lines. Her chin was square; her nose firm and noticeably +"hawk-like" in shape; her eyes clear, brilliant and keenly penetrating. + +She faced him, standing with her back to the light. + +"Sooner or later we would have had to meet," she said. "It is best +for both of us to have it over with at the very start." + +"I suppose you are right," said he stiffly. "You know how I feel +toward you, Rachel Carter. There is nothing either of us can say +that will make the situation easier or harder, for that matter." + +"Yes,--I understand," said she calmly. "You hate me. You have been +brought up to hate me. I do not question the verdict of those who +condemned me, but you may as well understand at once that I do not +regret what I did twenty years ago. I have not repented. I shall +never repent. We need not discuss that side of the question any +farther. You know my history, Kenneth Gwynne. You are the only person +in this part of the world who does know it. When the controversy +first came up over the settlement of your father's estate, I feared +that you would reveal the story of my--" + +He held up his hand, interrupting her. "Permit me to observe, Rachel +Carter, that for many months after being notified of my father's +death and the fact that he had left me a portion of his estate, I +was without positive proof as to the identity of the woman mentioned +in the correspondence as his widow. It was not until a copy of the +will was forwarded to me that I was sure. By that time I had made +up my mind to keep my own counsel. I can say to you now, Rachel +Carter, that I do not intend to rake up that ugly story. I do not +make war on helpless women." + +Her lips writhed slightly, and her eyes narrowed as if with pain. +It was but a fleeting exposition of vulnerability, however, for in +another instant she had recovered. + +"You could not have struck harder than that if you had been warring +against a strong man," she said gently. + +A hot flush stained his cheek. "It is the way I feel, nevertheless, +Rachel Carter," he said deliberately. + +"You can think of me only as Rachel Carter," she said. "My name +is Rachel Gwyn. Still it doesn't matter. I am past the point where +I can be hurt. You may tell the story if it suits your purpose. I +shall deny nothing. It may even give you some satisfaction to see +me wrap my soiled robes about me and steal away, leaving the field +to you. I can sell my lands to-morrow and disappear. It will matter +little whether I am forgotten or not. The world is large and I am +not without fortitude. I wanted you to come here to-day, to see me +alone, to hear what I have to say,--not about myself,--but about +another. I am a woman of quick decisions. When I learned early this +morning that you would be in Lafayette to-day, I made up my mind +to take a certain step,--and I have not changed it." + +"If you are referring to your daughter--to my half-sister, if you +will--I have only to remind you that my mind is already made up. +You need have no fear that I shall do or say anything to hurt that +innocent girl. I am assuming, of course, that she knows nothing +of--well, of what happened back there in Kentucky." + +"She knows nothing," said the woman, in a voice strangely low and +tense. "If she ever knew, she has forgotten." + +"Forgotten?" he cried. "Good God, how could she have forgotten a +thing so--" + +She moved a step nearer, her burning eyes fixed on his. + +"You remember Rachel Carter well enough. Have you no recollection +of the little girl you used to play with? Minda? The babe who could +scarcely toddle when you--" + +"Of course I remember her," he cried impatiently. "I remember +everything. You took her away with you and--why did you not leave +her behind as my father left me? Why could you not have been as +fair to your child as he was to his?" + +She was silent for a moment, pondering her answer. "I do not suppose +it has ever occurred to you that I might have loved my child too +deeply to abandon her," she said, a strange softness in her voice. + +"My father loved me," he cried out, "and yet he left me behind." + +"He loved you,--yes,--but he would not take you. He left you with +some one who also loved you. Don't ever forget that, Kenneth Gwynne. +I would not go without Minda. No more would your mother have gone +without you. Stop! I did not mean to offend. So you DO remember +little Minda?" + +"Yes, I remember her. But she is dead. Why do you mention her--" + +"Minda is not dead," said she slowly. + +"Not--why, she was drowned in the--" + +"No. Minda is alive. You saw her last night,--at Phineas Striker's +house." + +He started violently. "The girl I saw last night was--Minda?" he +cried. "Why, Striker told me she was--" + +"I know,--I know," she interrupted impatiently. "Striker told you +what he believed to be true. He told you she was Robert Gwyn's +daughter and your half-sister. But I tell you now that she is Minda +Carter. There is not a drop of Gwyn blood in her body." + +"Then, she is not my half-sister?" he exclaimed, utterly dazed, but +aware of the exquisite sensation of relief that was taking hold of +him. + +"She is no blood relation of yours." + +"But she is,--yes, now I understand,--she is my step-sister," he +said, with a swift fall of spirits. + +"I suppose that is what you might call her," said Rachel Gwyn, +indifferently. "I have not given it much thought." + +"Does she know that she is not my father's daughter?" + +"No. She believes herself to be his own flesh and blood,--his own +daughter," said she with the deliberateness of one weighing her +words, that they might fall with full force upon her listener. + +"Why are you telling me all this?" he demanded abruptly. "What is +your object? If she does not know the truth, why should I? Good +God, woman, you--you do not expect ME to tell her, do you? Was that +your purpose in getting me here? You want me to tell her that--" + +"No!" she cried out sharply. "I do not want you or any one else to +do that. Listen to me. I sha'n't beat about the bush,--I will not +waste words. So far as Viola and the world are concerned, she is +Robert Gwyn's daughter. That is clear to you, is it not? She was +less than two years old when we came away,--too young to remember +anything. We were in the wilderness for two or three years, and +she saw but one or two small children, so that it was a very simple +matter to deceive her about her age. She is nearly twenty-two now, +although she believes she is but nineteen. She does not remember +any other father than Robert Gwyn. She has no recollection of her +own father, nor does she remember you. She--" + +"Last night she described her father to me," he interrupted. "Her +supposed father, I mean. She made it quite plain that he did not +love her as a father should love his own child." + +"It was not that," she said. "He was afraid of her,--mortally +afraid of her. He lived in dread of the day when she would learn +the truth and turn upon him. He always meant to tell her himself, +and yet he could not find the courage. Toward the end he could not +bear to have her near him. It would not be honest in me to say that +he loved her. I do not believe he would have loved a child if one +had come to him and me,--no child of mine could take the place you +had in his heart." She spoke with calm bitterness. "You say she +told you about him last night. I am not surprised that she should +have spoken of him as she did. It was not possible for her to love +him as a father. Nature took good care of that. There was a barrier +between them. She was not his child. The tie of blood was lacking. +Nature cannot be deceived. She has never told me what her true +feelings toward him were, but I have sensed them. I could understand. +I think she is and always has been bewildered. It is possible that +away back in her brain there is something too tiny to ever become +a thought, and yet it binds her to a man she does not even remember. +But we are wasting time. You are wondering why I have told you the +truth about Viola. The secret was safe, so why should I reveal it +to you,--my enemy,--isn't that what you are thinking?" + +"Yes. I don't quite grasp your motive in telling me, especially +as I am still to look upon Viola as my half-sister. I have already +stated that under no circumstances will I hurt her by raking up that +old, infamous story. I find myself in a most difficult position. +She believes herself to be my sister while I know that she is not. +It must strike even you, Rachel Carter, as the ghastliest joke that +fate ever played on a man,--or a woman, either." + +"I have told you the truth, because I am as certain as I am that I +stand here now that you would have found it all out some day,--some +day soon, perhaps. In the first place your father did not mention +her in his will. That alone is enough to cause you to wonder. You +are not the only one who is puzzled by his failure to provide for +her as well as for you. Before long you would have begun to doubt, +then to speculate, and finally you would have made it your business +to find out why she was ignored. In time you could have unearthed +the truth. The truth will always out, as the saying goes. I +preferred to tell it to you at once. You understand I cannot exact +any promises from you. You will do as you see fit in the matter. +There is one thing that you must realize, however. Viola has not +robbed you of anything--not even a father's love. She does not +profit by his death. He did not leave her a farthing, not even a +spadeful of land. I am entitled to my share by law. The law would +have given it to me if he had left no will. I am safe. That is clear +to you, of course. I earned my share,--I worked as hard as he did +to build up a fortune. When I die my lands and my money will go to +my daughter. You need not hope to have any part of them. I do not +ask you to keep silent on my account. I only ask you to spare her. +If I have sinned,--and in the sight of man, I suppose I have,--I +alone should be punished. But she has not sinned. I have thought it +all out carefully. I have lain awake till all hours of the night, +debating what was the best thing to do. To tell you or not to tell +you, that was the question I had to settle. This morning I decided +and this is the result. You know everything. There is no need for +you to speculate. There is nothing for you to unravel. You know +who Viola is, you know why she was left out of your father's will. +The point is this, when all is said,--she must never know. She must +always,--do you hear me?--she must always look upon you as her +brother. She must never know the truth about me. I put her happiness, +her pride, her faith, in your hands, Kenneth Gwynne." + +He had listened with rigid attention, marvelling at the calm, +dispassionate, unflinching manner in which she stated her case and +Viola's,--indeed, she had stated his own case for him. Apparently +she had not even speculated on the outcome of her revelations; she +was sure of her ground before she took the first step. + +"There is no other course open to me," he said, taking up his hat. +He was very pale. "There is nothing more to say,--now or hereafter. +We have had, I trust, our last conversation. I hate you. I could +wish you all the unhappiness that life can give, but I am not such +a beast as to tell your daughter what kind of a woman you are. So +there's the end. Good-day, Rachel Carter." + +He turned away, his hand was on the door-latch, before she spoke +again. + +"There is something more," she said, without moving from the spot +where she had stood throughout the recital. The same calm, cold +voice,--the same compelling manner. "It was my pleading, back +in those other days, that finally persuaded Robert Gwyn to let me +bring Minda up as his daughter. He was bitterly opposed to it at +first. He never quite reconciled himself to the deception. He did +not consider it being honest with her. He was as firm as a rock +on one point, however. He would bring her up as his daughter, but +he would not give her his name. It was after he agreed to my plan +that he changed the spelling of his own name. She was not to have +his name,--the name he had given his own child. That was his real +reason for changing his name, and not, as you may suspect, to avoid +being traced to this strange land." + +"A belated attempt to be fair to me, I suppose," he said, ironically. + +"As you like," she said, without resentment. "In the beginning, +as I have told you, he believed it to be his duty to tell her the +truth about herself. He was sincere in that. But he did not have +the heart to tell her after years had passed. Now let me tell you +what he did a few weeks before he passed away,--and you will know +what a strange man he was. He came home one day and said to me: 'I +have put Viola's case in the hands of Providence. You may call it +luck or chance if you like, but I call it Providence. I cannot go +to her face to face and tell her the truth by word of mouth, but +I have told her the whole story in writing.' I was shocked, and +cried out to know if he had written to her in St. Louis. He smiled +and shook his head. 'No, I have not done that. I have written it all +out and I have hidden the paper in a place where she is not likely +to ever find it,--where I am sure she will never look. I will not +even tell you where it is hidden,--for I do not trust you,--no, not +even you. You would seek it out and destroy it.' How well he knew +me! Then he went on to say, and I shall never forget the solemn way +in which he spoke: 'I leave it all with Providence. It is out of my +hands. If she ever comes across the paper it will be a miracle,--and +miracles are not the work of man. So it will be God Himself +who reveals the truth to her.' Now you can see, Kenneth, that the +secret is not entirely in our keeping. There is always the chance +that she may stumble upon that paper. I live in great dread. My +hope now is that you will find it some day and destroy it. I have +searched in every place that I can think of. I confess to that. It +is hidden on land that some day will belong to Viola,--that much +he confided to me. It is not on the land belonging to you,--nor in +your house over there." + +"You are right," he said, deeply impressed. "There is always the +chance that it will come to light. There is no telling how many +times a day she may be within arm's length of that paper,--perhaps +within inches of it. It is uncanny." + +He cast a swift, searching look about the room, as if in the hope +that his eyes might unexpectedly alight upon the secret hiding +place. + +"He could not have hidden it in this house without my knowing it," +she said, divining his thought. + +He was silent for a moment, frowning reflectively. "Are you sure +that no one else knows that she is not his daughter?" + +"I am sure of it," she replied with decision. + +"And there is nothing more you have to tell me?" + +"Nothing. You may go now." + +Without another word he left her. He was not surprised by her +failure to mention the early morning episode at Striker's cabin. +His concluding question had opened the way; it was clear that she +had no intention of discussing with him the personal affairs of +her daughter. Nevertheless he was decidedly irritated. What right +had she to ask him to accept Viola as a sister unless she was also +willing to grant him the privileges and interests of a brother? +Certainly if Viola was to be his sister he ought to have something +to say about the way she conducted herself,--for the honour of the +family if for no other reason. + +As he walked rapidly away from the house in the direction of Main +Street, he experienced a sudden sense of exaltation. Viola was +not his sister! As suddenly came the reaction, and with it stark +realization. Viola could never be anything to him except a sister. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BROTHER AND SISTER + + +As he turned into Main Street he espied the figure of a woman +coming toward him from the direction of the public Square. She was +perhaps a hundred yards farther down the street and was picking +her way gingerly, mincingly, along the narrow path at the roadside. +His mind was so fully occupied with thoughts of a most disturbing +character that he paid no attention to her, except to note that +she was dressed in black and that in holding her voluminous skirt +well off the ground to avoid the mud-puddles, she revealed the +bottom of a white, beruffled petticoat. + +His meditations were interrupted and his interest suddenly aroused +when he observed that she had stopped stock-still in the path. +After a moment, she turned and walked rapidly, with scant regard +for the puddles, in the direction from which she had come. Fifteen +or twenty paces down the road, she came to what was undoubtedly a +path or "short cut" through the wood. Into this she turned hastily +and was lost to view among the trees and hazel-brush. + +He had recognized her,--or rather he had divined who she was. He +quickened his pace, bent upon overtaking her. Then, with the thrill +of the hunter, he abruptly whirled and retraced his steps. With the +backwoodsman's cunning he hastened over the ground he had already +traversed, chuckling in anticipation of her surprise when she found +him waiting for her at the other end of the "short cut." + +He had noticed a path opening into the woods at a point almost +opposite his own house, and naturally assumed that it was the one +she was now pursuing in order to avoid an encounter with him. His +long legs carried him speedily to the outlet and there he posted +himself. He could hear her coming through the brush, although her +figure was still obscured by the tangle of wildwood; the snapping +of dead twigs under her feet; the scuffling of last year's leaves +on the path, now wet and plastered with mud and the slime of winter; +the swish of branches as she thrust them aside. + +She emerged, breathless, into a little open spot, not twenty feet +away, and stopped to listen, looking back through the trees and +underbrush to see if she was being followed. Her skirts were drawn +up almost to the knees and pinched closely about her grey-stockinged +legs. He gallantly turned away and pretended to be studying the house +across the road. Presently he felt his ears burning; he turned to +meet the onslaught of her scornful, convicting eyes. + +She had not moved. Her hands, having released the petticoat, were +clenched at her sides. Her cheeks were crimson, and her dark eyes, +peering out from the shade of the close-fitting hood of her black +bonnet, smouldered with wrath,--and, if he could have read them +better, a very decided trace of maidenly dismay. + +"Ah, there you are," he cried, lifting his hat. "I was wondering +whether you would come out at this--" + +"Can't you see I am trying to avoid you?" she demanded with extreme +frigidity. + +"I rather fancied you were," said he easily. "So I hurried back +here to head you off. I trust you will not turn around and run the +other way, now that I have almost trapped you. Because if you do, +I shall catch up with you in ten jumps." + +"I wish you would go away," she cried. "I don't want to see you,--or +talk to you." + +"Then why did you leave word for me to come to your house to see +you?" he challenged. "I suspect you know by this time," she replied, +significantly. + +He hesitated, regarding her with some uneasiness. "What do you +mean?" he fenced. + +"Well, you surely know that it was my mother who wanted to see you, +and not I," she said, almost insolently. "Are you going to keep me +standing here in the mud and slush all day?" + +"No, indeed," he said. "Please come out." + +"Not until you go away." + +"Why don't you want to talk to me? What have I done?" + +"You know very well what you have done," she cried, hotly. "In the +first place, I don't like you. You have made it very unpleasant +for my mother,--who certainly has never done you any harm. In the +second place, I resent your interference in my affairs. Wait! Do +not interrupt me, please. Maybe you have not exactly interfered +as yet, but you are determined to do so,--for the honour of the +family, I suppose." She spoke scathingly. "I defy you,--and mother, +too. I am not a child to be--" + +"I must interrupt you," he exclaimed. "I haven't the slightest idea +what you are talking about." + +"Don't lie," she cried, stamping her foot. "Give me credit for a +little intelligence. Don't you suppose I know what mother wanted +to see you about? There! I can see the guilty look in your eyes. +You two have been putting your heads together, in spite of all the +ill-will you bear each other, and there is no use in denying it. I +am a naughty little girl and my big brother has been called in to +put a stop to my foolishness. If you--What are you laughing at, +Mr. Gwynne?" she broke off to demand furiously. + +"I am laughing at you," he replied, succinctly. "You ARE like a +little girl in a tantrum,--all over nothing at all. Little girls in +tantrums are always amusing, but not always naughty. Permit me to +assure you that your mother and I have not discussed your interesting +affair with Mr. Lapelle. We talked of business mat--" + +"Then," she cried, "how do you happen to know anything about Mr. +Lapelle and me? Aha! You're not as clever as you think you are. That +slipped out, didn't it? Now I know you were discussing my affairs +and nothing else. Well, what is the verdict? What are you going to +do to me? Lock me in my room, or tie me hand and foot, or--Please +stay where you are. It is not necessary to come any nearer, Mr. +Gwynne." + +He continued his advance through the thicket, undeterred by the +ominous light in her eyes. She stood her ground. + +"I think we had better talk the matter over quietly,--Viola," he +said, affecting sternness. "We can't stand here shouting at each +other. It is possible we may never have another chance to converse +freely. As a matter of fact, I do not intend to thrust myself upon +you or your mother. That is understood, I hope. We have nothing +in common and I daresay we can go our own ways without seriously +inconveniencing one another. I want you to know, however, that I +went to that house over there this afternoon because I thought you +wanted to consult with me about something. I was prepared to help +you, or to advise you, or to do anything you wanted me to do. You +were not there. I felt at first that you had played me a rather +shabby trick. Your mother,--my step-mother,--got me there under false +pretences, solely for the purpose of straightening out a certain +matter in connection with the--well, the future. She doubtless +realized that I would not have come on her invitation, so she used +you as a decoy. In any event, I am now glad that I saw her and +talked matters over. It does not mean that we shall ever be friendly, +but we at least understand each other. For your information I will +state that your mother did not refer to the affair at Striker's, +nor did I. I know all about it, however. I know that you went out +there to meet Lapelle. You planned to run away with him and get +married. I may add that it is a matter in which I have not the +slightest interest. If you want to marry him, all well and good. Do +so. I shall not offer any objection as a brother or as a counsellor. +If you were to ask for my honest opinion, however, I should--" + +"I am not asking for it," she cried, cuttingly. + +"--I should advise you to get married in a more or less regular +sort of way in your mother's home." + +"Thank you for the advice," she said, curtly. "I shall get married +when and where I please,--and to whom I please, Mr. Gwynne." + +"In view of the fact that I am your brother, Viola, I would suggest +that you call me Kenneth." + +"I have no desire to claim you as a brother, or to recognize you +as one," said she. + +He smiled. "With all my heart I deplore the evil fate that makes +you a sister of mine." + +She was startled. "That--that doesn't sound very--pretty," she +said, a trifle dashed. + +"The God's truth, nevertheless. At any rate, so long as you have +to be my sister, I rejoice in the fact that you are an extremely +pretty one. It is a great relief. You might have turned out to +be a scarecrow. I don't mind confessing that last night I said to +myself, 'There is the most beautiful girl in all the world,' and I +can't begin to tell you how shocked I was this morning when Striker +informed me that you were my half-sister. He knocked a romantic +dream into a cocked hat,--and--But even so, sister or no sister, +Viola, you still remain beyond compare the loveliest girl I have +ever seen." + +There was something in his eyes that caused her own to waver,--something +that by no account could be described as brotherly. She looked +away, suddenly timid and confused. It was something she had seen +in Barry Lapelle's eyes, and in the eyes of other ardent men. She +was flustered and a little distressed. + +"I--I--if you mean that," she said, nervously, "I suppose I--ought +to feel flattered." + +"Of course, I mean it,--but you need not feel flattered. Truth is +no form of flattery." + +She had recovered herself. "Who told you about Barry Lapelle and +me?" she demanded. + +"You mean about last night's adventure?" he countered, a trifle +maliciously. + +She coloured. "I suppose some one has--Oh, well, it doesn't matter. +I sha'n't ask you to betray the sneak who--" + +"Tut, tut, my dear Viola! You must not--" + +"Don't call me your dear Viola!" + +"Well, then, my dear sister,--surely you cannot expect me to address +you as Miss Gwyn?" in mild surprise. + +"Just plain Viola, if you must have a name for me." + +"That's better," said he, approvingly. + +"Whoever told you was a sneak," she said, wrathfully. She turned +her face away, but not quickly enough to prevent his seeing her +chin quiver slightly. + +"At any rate, it was not your mother," he said. "I have Striker's +permission to expose what you call his treachery. He thought it was +his duty to tell me under the circumstances. And while I am about +it, I may as well say that I think you conspired to take a pretty +mean advantage of those good and faithful friends. You deceived them +in a most outrageous manner. It wasn't very thoughtful or generous +of you, Viola. You might have got them into very serious trouble +with your mother,--who, I understand, holds the mortgage on their +little farm and could make it extremely unpleasant for them if she +felt so inclined." + +She was staring at him in wide-eyed astonishment, her red +lips slightly parted. She could not believe her ears. Why, he was +actually scolding her! She was being reprimanded! He was calmly, +deliberately reproving her, as if she were a mischievous child! +Amazement deprived her momentarily of the power of speech. + +"To be sure," he went on reflectively, "I can appreciate the extremities +to which you were driven. The course of true love was not running +very smoothly. No doubt your mother was behaving abominably. +Mothers frequently do behave that way. This young man of yours may +be,--and I devoutly hope he is,--a very worthy fellow, one to whom +your mother ought to be proud and happy to see you married. In +view of her stand in the matter, I will go so far as to say that +you were probably doing the right thing in running away from home +to be married. I think I mentioned to you last night that I am of +a very romantic nature. Lord bless you, I have lain awake many a +night envying the dauntless gentlemen of feudal days who bore their +sweethearts away in gallant fashion pursued by ferocious fathers +and a score or more of blood-thirsty henchmen. Ah, that was the way +for me! With my lady fair seated in front of me upon the speeding +palfrey, my body between her and the bullets and lances and bludgeons +of countless pursuers! Zounds! Odds blood! Gadzooks! and so forth! +Not any of this stealing away in the night for me! Ah, me! How +different we are in these prosaic days! But, even so, if I were you, +the next time I undertake to run away with the valiant Mr. Lapelle +I should see to it that he does his part in the good old-fashioned +way. And I should not drag such loyal, honest folk as Striker and +his wife into the business and then ride merrily off, leaving them +to pay the Piper." + +His heart smote him as he saw her eyes fill with tears. He did not +mistake them for tears of shame or contrition,--far from it, he +knew they were born of speechless anger. He had hurt her sorely, +even deliberately, and he was overcome by a sudden charge of +compassion--and regret. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to say +something,--anything,--to take away the sting of chastisement. + +He was not surprised when she swept by him, her head high, her +cheeks white with anger, her stormy eyes denying him even so much +as a look of scorn. He stood aside, allowing her to pass, and remained +motionless, gazing after her until she turned in at her own gate +and was lost to view. He shook his head dubiously and sighed. + +"Little Minda," he mused, under his breath. "You were my playmate +once upon a time,--and now! Now what are you? A rascal's sweetheart, if +all they say is true. Gad, how beautiful you are!" He was walking +slowly through the path, his head bent, his eyes clouded with +trouble. "And how you are hating me at this moment. What a devil's +mess it all is!" + +His eye fell upon something white lying at the edge of the path +a few feet ahead. It was a neatly folded sheet of note paper. He +stood looking down at it for a moment. She must have dropped it as +she came through. It was clean and unsoiled. A message, perhaps, +from Barry Lapelle, smuggled to her through the connivance of a +friendly go-between,--the girl she had gone to visit, what was her +name? He stooped to pick it up, but before his fingers touched it +he straightened up and deliberately moved it with the toe of his +boot to a less exposed place among the bushes, where he would have +failed to see it in passing. Then he strode resolutely away without +so much as a glance over his shoulder, and, coming to the open +road, stepped briskly off in the direction of the public Square. +His conscience would have rejoiced had he betrayed it by secreting +himself among the bushes for a matter of five minutes,--quaint +paradox, indeed!--for he would have seen her steal warily, anxiously +into the thicket in search of the lost missive,--and he would have +been further exalted by the little cry of relief that fell from her +lips as she snatched it up and sped incontinently homeward, as if +pursued by all the eyes in Christendom. + +As a matter of fact, it was not a letter from Barry to Viola. It +was the other way round. She had written him a long letter absolving +herself from blame in the contretemps of the night before, at the +same time confessing that she was absolutely in the dark as to how +her mother had found out about their plans. Suffice to say, she +HAD found out early in the evening and, to employ her own words, +"You know the result." Then she went on to say that, all things +considered, she was now quite sure she could never, never consent +to make another attempt. + +"I am positive," she wrote, ingenuously, "that mother will relent +in time, and then we can be married without going to so much trouble +about it." Farther on she admitted that, "Mother is very firm about +it now, but when she realizes that I am absolutely determined to +marry you, I am sure she will give in and all will be well." At the +end she said: "For the present, Barry dear, I think you had better +not come to the house. She feels very bitter toward you after last +night. We can see each other at Effie's and other places. After +all, she has had a great sorrow and she is so very unhappy that I +ought not to hurt her in any way if I can help it. I love you, but +I also love her. Please be kind and reasonable, dear, and do not +think I am losing heart. I am just as determined as ever. Nothing +can change me. You believe that, don't you, Barry dear? I know how +impulsive you are and how set in your ways. Sometimes you really +frighten me but I know it is because you love me so much. You must +not do anything rash. It would spoil everything. I do wish you +would stay away from that awful place down by the river. Mother +would feel differently toward you, I know, if you were not there +so much. She knows the men play cards there for money and drink and +swear. I believe you will keep your promise never to touch a drop +of whiskey after we are married, but when I told her that she only +laughed at me. By this time you must know that my brother has come +to Lafayette. He arrived this morning. He knows nothing about what +happened last night but I am afraid mother will tell him when she +sees him to-day. It would not surprise me if they bury the hatchet +and join hands and try to make a good little girl out of me. I think +he is quite a prim young man. He spent the night at Striker's and +I saw him there. I must say he is good-looking. He is so good-looking +that nobody would ever suspect that he is related to me." She signed +herself, "Your loving and devoted and loyal Viola." + +She had been unable to get the letter to him that day, and for +a very good reason. Her messenger, Effie Wardlow's young brother, +reached the tavern just in time to see Barry emerge, quite tipsy +and in a vile temper, arguing loudly with Jack Trentman and Syd +Budd, the town's most notorious gamblers. + +The three men went off toward the ferry. The lad very sensibly +decided this was no time to deliver a love letter to Mr. Lapelle, +so forthwith returned it to the sender, who, after listening bleakly +to a somewhat harrowing description of her lover's unsteady legs +and the direction in which they carried him, departed for home fully +convinced that something dreadful was going to happen to Barry and +that she would be to blame for it. + +Halfway home she decided that her mother was equally if not more to +blame than she, and, upon catching sight of her lordly, self-satisfied +brother, acquitted herself of ALL responsibility and charged everything +to her meddling relatives. Her encounter with the exasperating +Kenneth, however, served to throw a new and most unwelcome light +upon the situation. It WAS a shabby trick to play upon the Strikers. +She had not thought of it before. And how she hated him for making +her think of it! + +The first thing she did upon returning to the house with the recovered +letter was to proceed to the kitchen, where, after reading it over +again, she consigned it to the flames. She was very glad it had +not been delivered to Barry. The part of it referring to the "place +down by the river" would have to be treated with a great deal more +firmness and decision. That was something she would have to speak +very plainly about. + +By this time she had reached the conclusion that Barry was to blame +for THAT, and that nothing more terrible could happen to him than +a severe headache,--an ailment to which he was accustomed and which +he treated very lightly in excusing himself when she took him to +task for his jolly lapses. "All red-blooded fellows take a little +too much once in a while," he had said, more than once. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MOTHER AND DAUGHTER + + +Rachel Gwyn was seated at the parlor window when Viola entered the +house. She was there ten or fifteen minutes later when her daughter +came downstairs. + +"May I have a word with you, mother?" said the girl, from the +doorway, after waiting a moment for her mother to take some notice +of her presence. + +She spoke in a very stiff and formal manner, for there had been +no attempt on the part of either to make peace since the trying +experiences of early morning. Viola had sulked all day, while her +mother preserved a stony silence that remained unbroken up to the +time she expressed a desire to be alone with Kenneth when he called. + +Apparently Mrs. Gwyn did not hear Viola's question. The girl +advanced a few steps into the room and stopped again to regard the +motionless, unresponsive figure at the window. Mrs. Gwyn's elbow +was on the sill, her chin resting in the hand. Apparently she was +deaf to all sound inside the room. + +A wave of pity swept over Viola. All in an instant her rancour +took flight and in its place came a longing to steal over and throw +her arms about those bent shoulders and whisper words of remorse. +Desolation hung over that silent, thinking figure. Viola's heart +swelled with renewed anger toward Kenneth Gwynne. + +What had he said or done to wound this stony, indomitable mother +of hers? + +The room was cold. The fire had died down; only the huge backlog +showed splotches of red against the charred black; in front of +it were the faintly smoking ashes of a once sprightly blaze. She +shivered, and then, moved by a sudden impulse, strode softly over +and took down from its peg beside the fireplace the huge turkey +wing used in blowing the embers to life. She was vigorously fanning +the backlog when a sound from behind indicated that her mother had +risen from the chair. She smiled as she glanced over her shoulder. + +Her mother was standing with one of her hands pressed tightly to +her eyes. Her lips were moving. + +"He is Robert--Robert himself," she was murmuring. "As like as two +peas. I was afraid he might be--would be--" The words trailed off +into a mumble, for she had lowered her hand and was staring in dull +surprise at Viola. + +"What is it, mother?" cried the girl, alarmed by the other's +expression. "What were you saying?" + +After a moment her mother said, quite calmly: "Oh, it's you, is +it? When did you get home?" + +"A few minutes ago. How cold it is! The fire is almost out. Shall +I get some kindling and start it up?" + +"Yes. I don't know how I came to let it go down." + +When Viola returned from the kitchen with the fagots and a bunch +of shavings, the older woman was standing in front of the fireplace +staring moodily down at the ashes. She moved to one side while +her daughter laid the kindling and placed three or four sticks of +firewood upon the heap. Not a word was spoken until after Viola +had fanned a tiny flame out of the embers and lighted the shavings +with a spill. + +"I met my brother out there in the grove," said she, rising and +brushing the wood dust from her hands. + +"Yes?" + +"I thought maybe you and he had been discussing Barry Lapelle and +me and what happened last night, so I started to give him a piece +of my mind," said Viola, crimsoning. + +A faint smile played about the corners of Mrs. Gwyn's lips. "I can +well imagine his astonishment," she said, drily. + +"He knew all about it, even if he did not get it from you, mother," +said the girl, darkly. "Phin Striker told him everything." + +"Everybody in town will know about it before the week is out," +said the mother, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "I would have +given all I possess if it could have been kept from Kenneth Gwynne. +Salt in an open sore, that's what it is, Viola. It smarts, oh, how +it smarts." + +Viola, ignorant of the true cause of her mother's pain, snapped +her fingers disdainfully. + +"That's how much I care for his opinion, one way or the other. I +wouldn't let him worry me if I were you, mother. Let him think what +he pleases. It's nothing to us. I guess we can get along very well +without his good opinion or his good will or anything else. And +I will not allow him to interfere in my affairs. I told him so in +plain words out there awhile ago. He comes here and the very first +thing he does is to--" + +"He will think what he pleases, my child," broke in her mother; "so +do not flatter yourself that he will be affected by your opinion +of him. We will not discuss him, if you please. We have come to an +understanding on certain matters, and that is all that is necessary +to tell you about our interview. He will go his own way and we will +go ours. There need be no conflict between us." + +Viola frowned dubiously. "It is all very well for you to take +that attitude, mother. But I am not in the same position. He is +my half-brother. It is going to be very awkward. He is nothing to +you,--and people will understand if you ignore him,--but it--it +isn't quite the same with me. Can't you see?" + +"Certainly," admitted Mrs. Gwyn without hesitation. "You and he +have a perfect right to be friendly. It would not be right for me +to stand between you if you decide to--" + +"But I do not want to be friendly with him," cried the girl, +adding, with a toss of her head,--"and I guess he realizes it by +this time. But people know that we had the same father. They will +think it strange if--if we have nothing to do with each other. Oh, +it's terribly upsetting, isn't it?" + +"What did he say to you out there?" + +"He was abominable! Officious, sarcastic, insolent,--" + +"In plain words, he gave you a good talking to," interrupted Mrs. +Gwyn, rather grimly. + +"He said some things I can never forgive." + +"About you and Barry?" + +"Well,--not so much about me and Barry as about the way I--Oh, you +needn't smile, mother. He isn't going to make any fuss about Barry. +He told me in plain words that he did not care whether I married +him or not,--or ran away with him, for that matter. You will not +get much support from him, let me tell you. And now I have something +I want to say to you. We may as well have it out now as any other +time. I am going to marry Barry Lapelle." There was a ring of +defiance in her voice. + +Rachel Gwyn looked at her steadily for a moment before responding +to this out-and-out challenge. + +"I think it would be only fair of you," she began, levelly, "to +tell Mr. Lapelle just what he may expect in case he marries you. +Tell him for me that you will never receive a penny or an inch of +land when I die. I shall cut you off completely. Tell him that. It +may make some difference in his calculations." + +Viola flared. "You have no right to insinuate that he wants to +marry me for your money or your lands. He wants me for myself,--he +wants me because he loves me." + +"I grant you that," said Mrs. Gwyn, nodding her head slowly, "He +would be a fool not to want you--now. You are young and you are +very pretty. But after he has been married a few years and you +have become an old song to him, he will feel differently about +money and lands. I know Mr. Lapelle and his stripe. He wants you +now for yourself, but when you are thirty years old he will want you +for something entirely different. At any rate, you should make it +plain to him that he will get nothing but you,--absolutely nothing +but you. Men of his kind do not love long. They love violently--but +not long. Idle, improvident men, such as he is, are able to crowd +a whole lot of love into a very short space of time. That is because +they have nothing much else to do. They run through with love as +they run through with money,--quickly. The man who wastes money will +also waste love. And when he has wasted all his love, Barry Lapelle +will still want money to waste. Be good enough to make him understand +that he will never have a dollar of my money to waste,--never, my +child, even though his wife were starving to death." + +Viola stared at her mother incredulously, her face paling. "You +mean--you mean you would let me starve,--your own daughter? I--why, +mother, I can't believe you would be so--" + +"I mean it," said Rachel Gwyn, compressing her lips. + +"Then," cried Viola, hotly, "you are the most unnatural, cruel +mother that ever--" + +"Stop! You will not find me a cruel and inhuman mother when you +come creeping back to my door after Barry Lapelle has cast you +off. I am only asking you to tell him what he may expect from me. +And I am trying hard to convince you of what you may expect from +him. There's the end of it. I have nothing more to say." + +"But I have something more to say," cried the girl. "I shall tell +him all you have said, and I shall marry him in spite of everything. I +am not afraid of starving. I don't want a penny of father's money. +He did not choose to give it to me; he gave half of all he possessed +to his son by another woman, he ignored me, he cut me off as if I +were a--" + +"Be careful, my child," warned Rachel Gwyn, her eyes narrowing. "I +cannot permit you to question his acts or his motives. He did what +he thought was best,--and we--I mean you and I--must abide by his +decision." + +"I am not questioning your husband's act," said Viola, stubbornly. +"I am questioning my FATHER'S act." + +Mrs. Gwyn started. For a second or two her eyes wavered and then +fell. One corner of her mouth worked curiously. Then, without a +word, she turned away from the girl and left the room. + +Viola, greatly offended, heard her ascend the stairs and close a +door; then her slow, heavy tread on the boards above. Suddenly the +girl's anger melted. The tears rushed to her eyes. + +"Oh, what a beast I was to hurt her like that," she murmured, +forgetting the harsh, unfeeling words that had aroused her ire, +thinking only of the wonder and pain that had lurked in her mother's +eyes,--the wonder and pain of a whipped dog. "The only person in +all the world who has ever really loved me,--poor, poor old mother." +She stared through her tears at the flames, a little pucker of +uncertainty clouding her brow. "I am sure Barry never, never can +love me as she does, or be as kind and good to me," she mused. +"I wonder--I wonder if what she says is true about men. I wish he +had not gone to drinking to-day. But I suppose the poor boy really +couldn't help it. He hates so to be disappointed." + +Later on, at supper, she abruptly asked: + +"Mother, how old is Kenneth?" + +They had spoken not more than a dozen words to each other since +sitting down to table, which was set, as usual, in the kitchen. +Both were thoughtful;--one of them was contrite. + +Rachel Gwyn, started out of a profound reverie, gave her daughter +a sharp, inquiring look before answering. + +"I do not know. Twenty-five or six, I suppose." + +"Did you know his mother?" + +"Yes," after a perceptible pause. + +"How long after she died were you and father married?" + +"Your father had been a widower nearly two years when we were +married," said Rachel, steadily. + +"Why doesn't Kenneth spell his name as we do?" + +"Gwyn is the way it was spelled a great many years ago, and it is +the correct way, according to your father. It was his father, I +believe, who added the last two letters,--I do not know why, unless +it was supposed to be more elegant." + +"It seems strange that he should spell it one way and his own son +another," ventured the girl, unsatisfied. + +"Kenneth was brought up to spell it in the new-fangled way, I guess," +was Rachel Gwyn's reply. "You need not ask me questions about the +family, Viola. Your father never spoke of them. I am afraid he was +not on good terms with them. He was a strange man. He kept things +to himself. I do not recollect ever hearing him mention his first +wife or his son or any other member of his family in,--well, in +twenty years or more." + +"I should think you would have been a little bit curious. I know +I should." + +"I knew all that was necessary for me to know," said Rachel, somewhat +brusquely. + +"Can't you tell me something more about father's people?" persisted +the girl. + +"I only know that they lived in Baltimore. They never came west. +Your father was about twenty years old when he left home and came +to Kentucky. That is all I know, so do not ask any more questions." + +"He never acted like a backwoodsman," said Viola. "He did not talk +like one or--" + +"He was an educated man. He came of a good family." + +"And you are different from the women we used to see down the river. +Goodness, I was proud of you and father. There isn't a woman in +this town who--" + +"I was born in Salem, Massachusetts, and lived there till I was +nearly twenty," interrupted Mrs. Gwyn, calmly. "I taught school +for two years after my father died. My mother did not long survive +him. After her death I came west with my brother and his wife and +a dozen other men and women. We lived in a settlement on the Ohio +River for several years. My brother was killed by the Indians. +His widow took their two small children and went back to Salem to +live. I have never heard from her. We did not like each other. I +was glad to have her go." + +"Where did you first meet father?" + +She regretted the question the instant the words were out of her +mouth. The look of pain,--almost of pleading,--in her mother's eyes +caused her to reproach herself. + +"Forgive me, mother," she cried. "I did not stop to think. I know +how it hurts you to talk about him, and I should have--" + +"Be good enough to remember in the future," said Rachel Gwyn, +sternly, her eyes now cold and forbidding. She arose and stalked +to the kitchen window, where she stood for a long time looking out +into the gathering darkness. + +"Clear the table, Hattie," said Viola, presently. "We are through." + +Then she walked over to her mother and timidly laid an arm across +her shoulder. + +"I am sorry, mother," she said. + +To this Mrs. Gwyn did not reply. She merely observed: "We have had +very little sleep in the last six and thirty hours. Come to bed, +child." + +As was her custom, Rachel Gwyn herself saw to the locking and +bolting of the doors and window shutters at the front of the house. +To-night Viola, instead of Hattie, followed the tall black figure +from door to window, carrying the lighted candle. They stood +together, side by side, in the open front door for a few moments, +peering at the fence of trees across the road. + +Off in the distance some one was whistling a doleful tune. The spring +wind blowing in their faces was fresh and moist, a soft wind laden +with the smell of earth. A clumsy hound came slouching around the +corner of the little porch and, wagging his tail, stopped below +them; the light shone down into his big, glistening eyes. Viola +spoke to him softly. He wagged his tail more briskly. + +Rachel had turned her head and was looking toward the house that +was to be Kenneth's home. Its outlines could be made out among the +trees to the right, squat and lonely in a setting less black than +itself. + +"Before long there will be lights in the windows again," she was +saying, more to herself than to Viola. "A haunted house. Haunted +by a living, mortal ghost. Eh?" she cried out, sharply, turning to +Viola. + +"I did not speak, mother." + +A look of awe came to Rachel's eyes. + +"I was sure I heard--" she began, and then, after a short pause, +laughed throatily. "I guess it was the wind. Come in. I want to +lock the door." + +Viola was a long time in going to sleep. It seemed to her as +she lay there, staring wide awake, that everything in the world +was unsettled and topsy-turvy. Nothing could ever be right again. +What with the fiasco of the night just gone, the appearance of the +mysterious brother, the counterbalancing of resolve and remorse +within her troubled self, the report of Barry's lapse from rectitude, +her mother's astounding sophistry, her tired brain was in such a +whirl as never was. + +There was a new pain in her breast that was not of thwarted desires +nor of rancour toward this smug, insolent brother who had come +upon the scene. It hurt her to think that up to this night she had +known so little, ay, almost nothing, about her own mother's life. +For the first time, she heard of Salem, of her mother's people and +her occupation, of the journey westward, of the uncle who was killed +by the Indians and the wife who turned back; of unknown cousins +to whom she was also unknown. There was pain in the discovery that +her mother was almost a stranger to her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A ROADSIDE MEETING + + +Kenneth remained at the tavern for a month. He did not go near the +house of his step-mother. He saw her once walking along the main +street, and followed her with his eyes until she disappeared into +a store. A friendly citizen took occasion to inform him that it +was the "fust time" he had seen her on the street in a coon's age. + +"She ain't like most women," he vouchsafed. "Never comes down town +unless she's got some reason to. Most of 'em never stay to home +unless they've got a derned good reason to, setch as sickness, or +the washin' and ironin', or it's rainin' pitchforks. She's a mighty +queer woman, Rachel Gwyn is. How air you an' her makin' out these +days, Kenneth?" + +"Oh, fair to middlin'," replied the young man, dropping into the +vernacular. + +"I didn't know but what ye'd patched things up sorter," said the +citizen, invitingly. + +"There is nothing to patch up," said Kenneth. + +"Well, I guess it ain't any of my business, anyhow," remarked the +other, cheerfully. + +The business of taking over the property, signing the necessary +papers, renewing an agreement with the man who farmed his land +on the Wea, taking account of all live-stock and other chattels, +occupied his time for the better part of a fortnight. He spent +two days and a night at the little farmhouse, listening with ever +increasing satisfaction to the enthusiastic prophecies of the +farmer, a stout individual named Jones whose faith in the new land +was surpassed only by his ability to till it. Even out here on +his own farm Kenneth was unable to escape the unwelcome influence +of Rachel Carter. Mr. Jones magnanimously admitted that she was +responsible for all of the latest conveniences about the place and +characterized her as a "woman with a head on her shoulders, you +bet." + +He confessed: "Why, dodgast it, she stopped by here a couple o' +weeks ago an' jest naturally raised hell with me because my wife's +goin' to have another baby. She sez, sorter sharp-like, 'The +only way to make a farm pay is to stock it with somethin' besides +children.' That made me a leetle mad, so I up an' sez back to her: +'I wouldn't swap my seven children fer all the hogs an' cattle in +the state o' Indianny.' So she sez, kind o' grinnin', 'Well, I'll +bet your wife would jump at the chance to trade your NEXT seven +children, sight onseen, fer a new pair o' shoes er that bonnet +she's been wantin' ever sence she got married.' That sorter mixed +me up. I couldn't make out jest what she was drivin' at. Must ha' +been nine o'clock that night when it come to me all of a sudden. +So I woke Sue up an' told her what Rachel Gwyn said to me, an', +by gosh, Sue saw through it quicker'n a flash. 'You bet I would,' +sez she. 'I'd swap the next HUNDRED.' Then she kinder groaned an' +said, 'I guess maybe I'd better make it the next ninety-nine.' +Well, sir, that sot me to thinkin', an' the more I thought, the +more I realized what a lot o' common sense that mother-in-law o' +your'n has got. She--" + +"You mean my step-mother, Jones." + +"They say it amounts to the same thing in most families," said the +ready Mr. Jones, and continued to expatiate upon the remarkable +qualities of Rachel Gwyn. + +Kenneth found it difficult to think of the woman as Rachel Gwyn. +To him, she was unalterably Rachel Carter. Time and again he +caught himself up barely in time to avoid using the unknown name +in the presence of others. The possibility that he might some day +inadvertently blurt it out in conversation with Viola caused him +a great deal of uneasiness and concern. He realized that he would +have to be on his guard all of the time. + +There seemed to be no immediate prospect of such a calamity, +however. Since the memorable encounter in the thicket he had not +had an opportunity to speak to the girl. For reasons of her own +she purposely avoided him, there could be no doubt about that. On +more than one occasion she deliberately had crossed a street to +escape meeting him face to face, and there was the one especially +irritating instance when, finding herself hard put, she had +been obliged to turn squarely in her tracks and hurry back in the +direction from which she came. This would have been laughable to +Kenneth but for the distressing fact that it was even more laughable +to others. Several men and women, witnessing the manoeuvre, had +sniggered gleefully,--one of the men going so far as to slap his +leg and roar: "Well, by gosh, did you ever see anything like that?" +His ejaculation, like that of a town-crier, being audible for a +hundred feet or more, had one gratifying result. It caused Viola +to turn and transfix the offender with a stare so haughty that he +abruptly diverted his attention to the upper north-east corner of +the court-house, where, fortunately for him, a pair of pigeons had +just alighted and were engaged in the interesting pastime of bowing +to each other. + +A week or so after his return from the farm Kenneth saw her riding +off on horseback with two other young women and a youth named Hayes. +She passed within ten feet of him but did not deign to notice him, +although her companions bowed somewhat eagerly. This was an occasion +when he felt justified in swearing softly under his breath--and also +to make a resolve--to write her a very polite and formal letter +in which he would ask her pardon for presuming to suggest, as a +brother, that she was making a perfect fool of herself, and that +people were laughing "fit to kill" over her actions. It goes without +saying that he thought better of it and never wrote the letter. + +She was a graceful and accomplished horsewoman. He watched her out +of the corner of his eye as she cantered down the street, sitting +the spirited sorrel mare with all the ease and confidence of a +practised rider. Her habit was of very dark blue, with huge puffed +sleeves and a high lace collar. She wore a top-hat of black, +a long blue veil trailing down her back. He heartily agreed with +the laconic bystander who remarked that she was "purtier than most +pictures." + +Later on, urged by a spirit of restlessness, he ordered Zachariah +to saddle his horse and bring him around to the front of the tavern, +where he mounted and set out for a ride up the Wild Cat road. Two +or three miles above town he met Hayes and the two young women +returning. The look of consternation that passed among them did +not escape him. He smiled a trifle maliciously as he rode on, for +now he knew what had become of the missing member of the party. + +Half a mile farther on he came upon Viola and Barry Lapelle, riding +slowly side by side through the narrow lane. He drew off to one +side to allow them to pass, doffing his beaver ceremoniously. + +Lapelle's friendly greeting did not surprise him, for the two had +seen a great deal of each other, and at no time had there been +anything in the lover's manner to indicate that Viola had confided +to him the story of the meeting in the thicket. But he was profoundly +astonished when the girl favoured him with a warm, gay smile and +cried out a cheery "How do you do, Kenneth!" + +More than that, she drew rein and added to his amazement by shaking +her finger reproachfully at him, saying: + +"Where on earth have you been keeping yourself? I have not laid +eyes on you for more than a week." + +Utterly confounded by this unexpected attack, Kenneth stammered: +"Why, I--er--I have been very busy." Not laid eyes on him, indeed! +What was her game? "Now that I come to think of it," he went on, +recovering himself, "it is fully a week since I've seen you. Don't +you ever come down town, Viola?" + +"Every day," she said, coolly. "We just happen never to see each +other, that's all. I am glad to have had this little glimpse of +you, Kenneth, even though it is away out here in the woods." + +There was no mistaking the underlying significance of these words. +They contained the thinly veiled implication that he had followed +for the purpose of spying upon her. + +"Better turn around and ride back with us, Kenny," said Barry, +politely but not graciously. + +"I am on my way up to the Wild Cat to see a man on business," said +Kenneth, lamely. + +"Kenny?" repeated Viola, puckering her brow. + +"Where have I heard that name before? I seem to remember--oh, as +if it were a thousand years ago. Do they call you Kenny for short?" + +"It grew up with me," he replied. "Ever since I can remember, my +folks--" + +He broke off in the middle of the sentence, confronted by a disconcerting +thought. Could it be possible that somewhere in Viola's brain,--or +rather in Minda's baby brain,--that familiar name had stamped +itself? Why not? If it had been impressed upon his own baby brain, +why not in a less degree upon hers? He made a pretence of stooping +far over to adjust a corner of his saddle blanket. Straightening +up, he went on: + +"Any name is better than what the boys used to call me at school. +I was known by the elegant name of Piggy, due to an appetite over +which I seemed to have no control. Well, I must be getting along. +Good day to you." + +He lifted his hat and rode off. He had gone not more than twenty +rods when he heard a masculine shout from behind: turning, he +discovered that the couple were still standing where he had left +them. Lapelle called out: + +"Your sister wants to have a word with you." + +She rode swiftly up to where he was waiting. + +"I just want to let you know that I intend to tell mother about +meeting Barry out here to-day," she said, unsmilingly. "I shall +not tell her that we planned it in advance, however. We did plan +it, so if you want to run and tell her yourself, you may do so. It +will make no--" + +"Is that all you wanted to say to me, Viola?" he interrupted. + +For a moment she faced him rebelliously, hot words on her lips. +Then a surprising change came over her. Her eyes quailed under the +justifiable scorn in his. She hung her head. + +"No," she said, miserably. "I thought it was all, but it isn't. I +want to say that I am sorry I said what I did." + +He watched the scarlet flood sweep over her cheeks and then as +swiftly fade. It was abject surrender, and yet he had no thrill of +triumph. + +"It's--it's all right, Viola," he stammered, awkwardly. "Don't +think anything more about it. We will consider it unsaid." + +"No, we'll not," she said, looking up. "We will just let it stand +as another black mark against me. I am getting a lot of them lately. +But I AM sorry, Kenneth. Will you try to forget it?" + +He shook his head. "Never! Forgetting the bitter would mean that +I would also have to give up the sweet," said he, gallantly. "And +you have given me something very sweet to remember." + +She received this with a wondering, hesitating little smile. + +"I never dreamed that brothers could say such nice things to their +sisters," she said, and he was aware of a deep, questioning look +in her eyes. "They usually say them to other men's sisters." + +"Ah, but no other fellow happens to have you as a sister," he +returned, fatuously. She laughed aloud at this, perhaps a little +uncertainly. + +"Bless me!" he exclaimed. "It sounds good to hear you laugh like +that,--such a jolly, friendly sort of laugh." + +"I must be going now," she said, biting her lip. "Good-bye,--Kenny." +A faint frown clouded her brow after she had uttered the name. "I +must ask mother if she remembers hearing father speak of you as +Kenny." + +"Say, Viola," came an impatient shout from Barry Lapelle, "are you +going to take all day?" + +It was plain to be seen that the young man was out of temper. +There was a sharp, domineering note of command in his voice. Viola +straightened up in her saddle and sent a surprised, resentful look +at the speaker. Kenneth could not repress a chuckle. + +"Better hurry along," he said, grimly, "or he'll take your head off. +Lord, we are going to have a storm. I see a thundercloud gathering +just below the rim of Barry's hat. If you--" + +"Please keep your precious wit to yourself," she flamed, but with +all her show of righteous indignation she could not hide from him +the chagrin and mortification that lurked in her tell-tale eyes. + +She rode off in high dudgeon, and he was left to curse his ill-timed +jest. What a blundering fool he had been! Her first, timid little +advance,--and he had met it with boorish, clownish wit! A scurvy +jest, indeed! She was justified in despising him. + +If Viola had turned her proud head a few moments later, she would have +beheld an amazing spectacle: her supposedly smug and impeccable +brother riding away at break-neck speed down the soggy lane, regardless +of overhanging branches and flying mud, fleeing in wrath from the +scene of his discontent. + +Dusk was falling when he rode slowly into the town again. He had +reached a decision during that lonely ride. He would not remain +in Lafayette. He foresaw misery and unhappiness for himself if he +stayed there,--for, be it here declared, he was in love with Viola +Gwyn. No, worse than that, he was in love with Minda Carter,--and +therein lay all the bitterness that filled his soul. He could never +have her. Even though she cast off the ardent Lapelle, still he +could not have her for his own. The bars were up, and it was now +beyond his power to lower them. And so, with this resolve firmly +fixed in his mind, he gave himself up to a strange sort of despair. + +After supper at the tavern, he set out for a solitary stroll about +the town before going to bed. He took stock of himself. No later +than that morning he had come to a decision to open an office and +engage in the practice of Law in Lafayette. He had made many friends +during his brief stay in the place, and from all sides he had been +encouraged to "hang out his shingle" and "grow up with the town." +He liked the people, he had faith in the town, he possessed all +the confidence and courage of youth. The local members of the bar, +including the judge and justices, seriously urged him to establish +himself there--there was room for him,--the town needed such men +as he,--indeed, one of the leading lawyers had offered to take him +into partnership, an opportunity not to be despised, in view of +this man's state-wide reputation as a lawyer and orator, and who +was already being spoken of for high honours in the councils of +state and nation. + +All this was very gratifying to the young stranger. He was +flattered by the unmistakable sincerity of these new friends. And +he was in a position to weather the customary paucity of clients +for an indefinite period, a condition resulting to but few young +men starting out for themselves in the practice of law. He was +comfortably well-off in the matter of worldly goods, not only through +his recently acquired possessions, but as the result of a substantial +legacy that had come to him on the death of his grandmother. He +had received his mother's full share of the Blythe estate, a no +inconsiderable fortune in lands and money. + +And now everything was changed. He would have to give up his plan +to settle in Lafayette, and so, as he strolled gloomily about the +illy-lighted town, he was casting about for the next best place +to locate. The incomprehensible and incredible had come to pass. +He had fallen in love with Viola Gwyn at first sight, that stormy +night at Striker's. The discovery that she was his own half-sister +had, of course, deluded his senses--temporarily, but now he realized +that the strange, primitive instincts of man had not been deceived +and would not be denied. + +His blood had known the truth from the instant he first laid +eyes upon the lovely stranger. Since that first night there had +been revelations. First of all, Viola was the flesh and blood of +an evil woman, and that woman his mortal foe. Notwithstanding her +own innocence and purity, it was inconceivable that he should ever +think of taking her to himself as wife. Secondly, he was charged +with a double secret that must forever stand between him and her: +the truth about her mother and the truth about herself. + +There was but one thing left for him to do,--go away. He loved +her. He would grow to love her a thousand-fold more if he remained +near her, if he saw her day by day. These past few days had brought +despair and jealousy to him, but what would the future bring? Misery! +No, he would have to go. He would wind up his affairs at once and +put longing and temptation as far behind him as possible. There +was the town of Louisville. From all reports it was a prosperous, +growing town, advantageously situated on the River Ohio. Crawfordsville +was too near. He would have to go farther, much farther away than +that,--perhaps back to the old home town. + +"What cruel foul luck!" he groaned, aloud. + +His wanderings had carried him through dark, winding cow-paths and +lanes to within a stone's throw of Jack Trentman's shanty, standing +alone like the pariah it was, on the steep bank of the river near +the ferry. Back in a clump of sugar trees it seemed to hide, as +if shrinking from the accusing eye of every good and honest man. +Kenneth had stopped at the edge of the little grove and was gazing +fiercely at the two lighted windows of the "shanty." He was thinking +of Barry Lapelle as he muttered the words, thinking of the foul +luck that seemed almost certain to deliver Viola into his soiled and +lawless hands. The fierceness of his gaze was due to the knowledge +that Lapelle was now inside Trentman's notorious shanty and perhaps +gambling. + +This evening, as on two or three earlier occasions, he had been urged +by Barry to come down to the shanty and try his luck at poker. He +had steadfastly declined these invitations. Trentman's place was +known far and wide as a haven into which "cleaned out" river gamblers +sailed in the hope of recovering at least enough of their fortunes +to enable them to return to more productive fields down the reaches +of the big river. These whilom, undaunted rascals, like birds of +passage, stayed but a short time in the new town of Lafayette. They +came up the river with sadly depleted purses, confident of "easy +pickings" among the vainglorious amateurs, and be it said in behalf +of their astuteness, they seldom if ever boarded the south-bound +boats as poor as when they came. + +In due time they invariably returned again to what they called +among themselves "the happy hunting-ground." The stories of big +"winnings" and big "losings" were rife among the people of the +town. More than one adventurous citizen or farmer had been "wiped +out," with no possible chance of ever recovering from his losses. +It was common talk that Barry Lapelle was "fresh fish" for these +birds of prey. He possessed the gambling instinct but lacked the +gambler's wiles. He was reckless where they were cool. They "stripped" +him far oftener than he won from them, but it was these infrequent +winnings that encouraged him. He believed that some day he would +make a big "killing"; the thought of that was ever before him, +beckoning him on like the dancing will-o'-the-wisp. He took no note +of the fact that these bland gentlemen could pocket their losings +as well as their winnings. It was part of their trade to suffer +loss. They had everything to gain and nothing to lose, so they +throve on uncertainty. + +Not so with Barry, or others of his kind. They could only afford +to win. It was no uncommon experience for the skilled river gambler +to be penniless; it was all in the day's work. It did not hurt him +to lose, for the morrow was ahead. But it was different with his +victims. The morrow was not and never could be the same; when they +were "cleaned out" it meant desolation. They went down under the +weight and never came up, while the real gambler, in similar case, +scraped his sparse resources together and blithely began all over +again,--a smiling loser and a smiling winner. Full purse or empty, +he was always the same. Rich to-day, poor to-morrow,--all the +same to him. Philosopher, rascal, soldier, knave,--but never the +craven,--and you have the Mississippi gambler. + +Barry, after coming in from his ride with Viola, had "tipped the +jug" rather liberally. He kept a demi-john of whiskey in his room +at the tavern, and to its contents all the "afflicted" were welcome. +It could not be said of him that he was the principal consumer, +for, except under unusual circumstances, he was a fairly abstemious +man. As he himself declared, he drank sparingly except when his "soul +was tried." The fact that he had taken several copious draughts +of the fiery Mononga-Durkee immediately upon his return was an +indication that his soul was tried, and what so reasonable as to +assume that it had been tried by Viola. + +In a different frame of mine, Kenneth might have accepted this as +a most gratifying augury. But, being without hope himself, he took +no comfort in Barry's gloom. What would he not give to be in the +roisterer's boots instead of his own? + +The spoken lament had barely passed his lips when the wheel of fate +took a new and unexpected turn, bringing his dolorous meditations +to a sudden halt and subsequently upsetting all his plans. + +He thought he was alone in the gloom until he was startled by the +sound of a man's voice almost at his elbow. + +"Evenin', Mr. Gwynne." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ISAAC STAIN APPEARS BY NIGHT + + +Whirling, he made out the lank shadow of a man leaning against a +tree close by. + +"Good evening," he muttered in some confusion, conscious of a sense +of guilt in being caught in the act of spying. + +"I've been follerin' you fer quite a ways," observed the unknown. +"Guess you don't remember me. My name is Stain, Isaac Stain." + +"I remember you quite well," said Kenneth, stiffly. "May I inquire +why you have been following me, Mr. Stain?" + +"Well, I jest didn't know of anybody else I could come to about a +certain matter. It has to do with that feller, Lapelle, up yander +in Trentman's place. Fust, I went up to Mrs. Gwyn's house, but it +was all dark, an' nobody to home 'cept that dog o' her'n. He knowed +me er else he'd have jumped me. I guess we'd better mosey away from +this place. A good many trees have ears, you know." + +They walked off together in the direction of town. Stain was silent +until they had put a hundred paces or more between them and the +grove. + +"Seems that Violy is right smart taken with this Lapelle feller," +he observed. "Well, I thought I'd oughter tell her ma what I heerd +about him to-day. Course, everybody's heerd queer things about +him, but this beats anything I've come acrosst yet. Martin Hawk's +daughter, Moll, come hoofin' it up to my cabin this mornin' an' +told me the derndest story you've ever heerd. She came to me, she +sez, on account of me bein' an old friend of Rachel's, an' she +claims to be a decent, honest girl in spite of what her dodgasted +father is. Everybody believes Mart is a hoss thief an' sheep-stealer +an' all that, but he hain't ever been caught at it. He's purty +thick with Barry Lapelle. Moll Hawk sez her dad'll kill her if he +ever finds out she come to me with this story. Seems that Barry an' +Violy are calculatin' on gettin' married an' the old woman objects. +Some time this past week, Violy told Barry she wouldn't marry him +anywheres 'cept in her own mother's house. Well, from what Moll +sez, Barry has got other idees about it." + +He paused to bite off a fresh chew of tobacco. + +"Go on, Stain. What did the girl tell you?" + +"'Pears that Barry ain't willin' to take chances on gettin' married +jest that way, an' besides he's sort of got used to havin' anything +he wants without waitin' very long fer it. Now, I don't know whuther +Violy's a party to the scheme or not,--maybe she is an' maybe she +ain't. But from what Moll Hawk sez there's a scheme on foot to get +the best of Rachel Gwyn by grabbin' Violy some night an' rushin' her +to a hidin' place down the river where Barry figgers he c'n persuade +her to marry him an' live happy ever afterwards, as the sayin' is. +Seems that Barry figgers that you, bein' a sort o' brother to her, +will put your foot down on them gettin' married, so he's goin' +to get her away from here before it's too late. Moll sez it's +all fixed up, 'cept the time fer doin' it. Martin Hawk an' a half +dozen fellers from some'eres down the river is to do the job. All +she knows is it's to be in the dark o' the moon, an' that's not fer +off. Moll sez she believes Violy knows about the plan an' sort of +agrees to--" + +"I don't believe it, Stain," broke in Kenneth. "She would not lend +herself to a low-down trick like that." + +Stain shook his head. "They say she's terrible in love with Barry, +an' gosh only knows what a woman'll stoop to in order to git the +man she's set her heart on. Why, I could tell you somethin' about +a woman that was after me some years back,--a widder down below +Vincennes,--her husband used to run a flatboat,--an', by cracky, Mr. +Gwynne, you wouldn't believe the things she done. Chased me clean +down to Saint Louis an' back ag'in, an' then trailed me nearly fifty +miles through the woods to an Injin village on the White River. I +don't know what I'd have done if it hadn't been fer an Injin I'd +befriended a little while back. He shot her in the leg an' she was +laid up fer nearly six weeks, givin' me that much of a start. That +was four years ago an' to this day I never go to sleep at night +without fust lookin' under the bed. Some day I'll tell you all about +that woman, but not now. I'm jest tellin' this to show you what a +woman'll do when she once makes up her mind, an' maybe Violy ain't +any different from the rest of 'em." + +"Nevertheless, Viola is not that kind," asserted Kenneth, stubbornly. +"She may be in love with Lapelle, but if she has made up her mind +to be married at her mother's house, that's the end of it. See +here, Stain, I've been thinking while you were talking. If there +is really anything in this story, I doubt the wisdom of going to +Mrs. Gwyn with it, and certainly it would be a bad plan to speak to +Viola. We've got to handle this matter ourselves. I want to catch +Barry Lapelle red-handed. That is the surest way to convince Viola +that he is an unworthy scoundrel. It is my duty to protect my--my +sister--and I shall find a way to do so, whether she likes it or not. +You know, perhaps, that we are not on the friendliest of terms." + +"Yep, I know," said Stain. "You might as well know that I am on +their side, Mr. Gwynne. Whatever the trouble is between you an' +them two women, I am for them an' ag'in you. That's understood, +ain't it?" + +"It is," replied Kenneth, impressed by the hunter's frankness. "But +all the more reason why in a case like this you and I should work +hand in hand. I am glad you came to me with the Hawk girl's story. +Hawk and his crew will find me waiting for them when they come. +They will not find their job a simple one." + +"I guess you'll need a little help, Mr. Gwynne," said Stain, drily. +"What are you goin' to do? Call in a lot o' these dodgasted canary +birds to fight the hawks? If you do, you'll get licked. What you +want is a man er two that knows how to shoot an' is in the habit +o' huntin' varmints. You c'n count on me, Mr. Gwynne, if you need +me. If you feel that you don't need me, jest say so, an' I'll go +it alone. I don't like Martin Hawk; we got a grudge to settle, him +an' me. So make your choice. You an' me will work in cahoots with +each other, or we'll go at it single-hand." + +"We will work together, Stain," said Kenneth, promptly. "You know +your man, you know the lay of the land, and you are smarter than +I am when it comes to handling an affair of this kind. I will be +guided by you. Shake hands." + +The two men shook hands. Then the lawyer in Gwynne spoke. + +"You should see this Hawk girl again and keep in touch with their +plans. We must not let them catch us napping." + +"She's comin' to see me in a day er so. Mart Hawk went down to +Attica to-day, him an' a feller named Suggs who's been soberin' +up at Mart's fer the past few days. The chances are he's gone down +there on this very business." + +"Will you keep in touch with me?" + +"Yes, sir. If you ain't got anything to do to-morrow, you might +ride out to my place, where we c'n talk a little more free-like." + +"A good idea, Stain. You are sure nothing is likely to happen +to-night?" + +"Not till the dark o' the moon, she sez." + +"By the way, why is she turning against her father like this?" + +"Well, you remember what I was jest sayin' about women,--how sot +they are in their ways concarnin' a man? Well, Moll is after Barry +Lapelle,--no question about that. She's an uncommon good-lookin' +girl, I might say, an' I guess Barry ain't blind. Course, she's +an unedicated girl an' purty poor trash,--you couldn't expect much +else of a daughter of Martin Hawk, I guess,--but that don't seem +to make much difference when it comes to fallin' in love. You don't +need to have much book learnin' fer that. I could tell ye about a +girl I used to know,--but we'll save it fer some other time." + +"I see," mused Kenneth, reflectively. "She wants Lapelle for herself. +But doesn't she realize that if they attempt this outrage her own +father stands a pretty good chance of being shot?" + +"Lord love ye, that don't worry her none," explained the hunter. +"She don't keer much what happens to him. Why, up to this day he +licks the daylights out o' her, big as she is. You c'n hear her +yell fer half a mile. That's how she comes to be a friend o' mine, I +happened to be huntin' down nigh Mart's place last fall an' heerd +her screamin',--you could hear the blows landin' on her back, +too,--so I jest stepped sort o' spry to'ards his cabin an' ketched +him layin' it on with a wilier branch as thick as your thumb, an' +her a screechin' like a wild-cat in a trap. Well, what happened +inside the next minute made a friend o' her fer life,--an' an enemy +o' him. You'd have thought any dootiful an' loyal offspring would +o' tried to pull me off'n him, but all she done was to stand back +an' egg me on, 'specially when I took to tannin' him with the same +stick he'd been usin' on her. Seems like Mart's never felt very +friendly to'ards me sence that day." + +"I shouldn't think he would." + +"When I got kind o' wore out with wollopin' him, I sot down to rest +on the edge o' the waterin' trough, an' she comes over to me an' +sez she wished I'd stay an' help her bury the old man. She said +if I'd wait there she'd go an' get a couple o' spades out'n the +barn,--well, to make a long story short, soon as Mart begin to +realize he was dead an' wasn't goin' to have a regular funeral, +with mourners an' all that, he sot up an' begin to whine all over +ag'in. So I up an' told him if I ever heerd of him lickin' his gal +ag'in, I'd come down an' take off what little hide there was left +on him. He said he'd never lick her ag'in as long as he lived. +So I sez to Moll, sez I, 'If you ever got anything to complain of +about this here white-livered weasel, you jest come straight to +me, an' I'll make him sorry he didn't get into hell sooner.' Well, +sir, after that he never licked her without fust tyin' somethin' +over her mouth so's she couldn't yell, an' it wasn't till this +afternoon that I found out he'd been at it all along, same as ever, +'cept when Barry Lapelle was there. Seems that Barry stopped him +from lickin' her once, an' that made Moll foller him around like +a dog tryin' to lick his hand. No, sir, she won't be heartbroke +if somebody puts a rifle ball between Mart's eyes an' loses it +some'eres back inside his skull. She'd do it herself if she wasn't +so doggoned sure somebody else is goin' to do it, sooner or later." + +"You say there was no one at home up at Mrs. Gwyn's?" observed +Kenneth, apprehensively. "That's queer. Where do you suppose they +are?" + +"That's what I'm wonderin' about. Mrs. Gwyn never goes nowhere, +'cept out to the farm, an' I'm purty sure she didn't--Say, do you +hear somebody comin' up the road behind us?" + +He laid a hand on Kenneth's arm and they both stopped to listen. + +"I hear no one," said the young man. + +"Well, you ain't got a hunter's ears," said the other. "Some one's +follerin' us,--a good ways back. I've got so's I c'n hear an acorn +drop forty mile away." + +They drew off into the shadows at the roadside and waited. Twenty +yards or more ahead gleamed the lights in the windows of the nearest +store. A few seconds elapsed, and then Kenneth's ears caught the +sound of footsteps in the soft dirt road, and presently the subdued +murmur of voices. + +"Women," observed Stain, laconically, lowering his voice. "Let 'em +pass. If we show ourselves now, they'll think we're highwaymen or +something, an' begin screechin' fer dear life." + +Two vague, almost indistinguishable figures took shape in the +darkness down the road and rapidly drew nearer. They passed within +ten feet of the two men,--black voiceless shadows. Stain's hand +still gripped his companion's arm. The women had almost reached the +patches of light cast upon the road from the store windows, before +the hunter spoke. + +"Recognize 'em?" he whispered. + +"No." + +"Well, I guess I know now why there wasn't nobody to home up yander. +That was Violy an' her ma." + +Kenneth started. "You--you don't mean it!" + +"Yep. An' if you was to ask me what they air doin' down here by the +river I'd tell you. Mrs. Gwyn jest simply took Violy down there to +Trentman's shanty an' SHOWED her Barry Lapelle playin' cards." + +"Impossible! I would have seen them." + +"Not from where you stood. The winders on the river side air open, +an' you c'n see into the house. On the side facin' this way, Jack's +got curtains hangin'. Well, Mrs. Gwyn took Violy 'round on t'other +side where she could look inside. Maybe you didn't hear what they +was sayin' when we fust beared 'em talkin'. Well, I did. I heared +Violy say, plain as day, 'I don't keer what you say, mother, he +swore to me he never plays except fer fun.' An' Rachel Gwyn, she +sez, 'There ain't no setch thing as playin' fer fun in that place, +so don't talk foolish.' That's all I heared 'em say,--an' they +ain't spoke a word sence." + +"Come along, Stain," said Kenneth, starting forward. "We must follow +along behind, to see that they reach home safely." + +The hunter gave vent to a deprecating grunt. "They won't thank us +if they happen to turn around an' ketch us at it. 'Sides, I got to +be startin' to'ards home. That ole hoss o' mine ain't used to bein' +out nights. Like as not, he's sound asleep this minute, standin' +over yander in front o' Curt Cole's blacksmith shop, an' whenever +that hoss makes up his mind he's asleep there ain't nothin' that'll +convince him he ain't. There they go, turnin' off Main street, so's +they won't run across any curious-minded saints. Guess maybe we'd +better trail along behind, after all." + +Fifteen minutes later the two men, standing back among the trees, +saw lights appear in the windows of Mrs. Gwyn's house. Then they +turned and wended their way toward the public square. They had +spoken but few words to each other while engaged in the stealthy +enterprise, and then only in whispers. No one may know what was in +the mind of the hunter, but in Kenneth's there was a readjustment of +plans. A certain determined enthusiasm had taken the place of his +previous depression. The excitement of possible conflict, the thrill +of adventure had wrought a complete change in him. His romantic +soul was aflame. + +"See here, Stain," he began, when they were down the slope; "I've +been thinking this matter over and I have come to the conclusion +that the best thing for me to do is to go straight to Lapelle and +tell him I am aware of his--" + +"Say, you're supposed to be a lawyer, ain't you?" drawled his +companion, sarcastically. + +"Yes, I am," retorted Kenneth. + +"Well, all I got to say is you'd make a better wood-chopper. Barry'd +jest tell you to go to hell, an' that'd be the end of it as fer as +you're concarned. Course, he'd give up the plan, but he'd make it +his business to find out how you got wind of it. Next thing we'd +know, Moll Hawk would have her throat slit er somethin',--an' I +reckon that wouldn't be jest what most people would call fair, Mr. +Gwynne. I guess we'd better let things slide along as they air an' +ketch Mart an' his crowd in the act. You don't reckon that Barry +is goin' to take a active part in this here kidnappin' job, do you? +Not much! He won't be anywheres near when it happens. He's too cute +fer that. You won't be able to fasten anything on him till it's +too late to do anything." + +Kenneth was properly humbled. "You are right, Stain. If you hear +of anybody who wants to have some wood chopped, free of charge, I +wish you'd let me know." + +"Well," began the laconic Mr. Stain, "it takes considerable practice +to get to be even a fair to middlin' woodchopper." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE GRACIOUS ENEMY + + +Bright and early the next morning Kenneth gave orders to have his +new home put in order for immediate occupancy. Having made up his +mind to remain in Lafayette and face the consequences that had seemed +insurmountable the night before, he lost no time in committing himself +to the final resolve. Zachariah was despatched with instructions +to lay in the necessary supplies, while two women were engaged +to sweep, scrub and furbish up the long uninhabited house. He had +decided to move in that very afternoon. + +Meanwhile he rented an "office" on the north side of the public +square, a small room at the back of a furniture store, pending the +completion of the two story brick block on the south side. With +commendable enterprise he lost no time in outfitting the temporary +office from the furniture dealer's stock. His scanty library of +law books,--a half dozen volumes in all,--Coke, Kent and Chitty, +among them,--had been packed with other things in the cumbersome +saddle bags, coming all the way from Kentucky with him. + +Of necessity he had travelled light, but he had come well provided +with the means to purchase all that was required in the event that +he decided to make Lafayette his abiding place. + +As he was hurrying away from the tavern shortly after breakfast, +he encountered Lapelle coming up from the stable-yard. The young +Louisianian appeared to be none the worse for his night's dissipation. +In fact, he was in a singularly amiable frame of mind. + +"Hello," he called out. Kenneth stopped and waited for him to come +up. "I'm off pretty soon for my place below town. Would you care +to come along? It's only about eight miles. I want to arrange with +Martin Hawk for a duck shooting trip the end of the week. He looks +after my lean-to down there, and he is the keenest duck hunter in +these parts. Better come along." + +"Sorry I can't make it," returned Kenneth. "I am moving into my +house to-day and that's going to keep me pretty busy." + +"Well, how would you like to go out with us a little later on for +ducks?" + +"I'd like to, very much. That is, after I've got thoroughly settled +in my new office, shingles painted, and so forth. Mighty good of +you to ask me." + +Barry was regarding him somewhat narrowly. + +"So you are moving up to your house to-day, are you? That will be +news to Viola. She's got the whim that you don't intend to live +there." + +"I was rather undecided about it myself,--at least for the present. +I am quite comfortable here at Mr. Johnson's." + +"It isn't bad here,--and he certainly sets a good table. Say, I +guess I owe you a sort of apology, Kenny. I hope you will overlook +the way I spoke last night when you said you couldn't go to Jack +Trentman's. I guess I was a--well, a little sarcastic, wasn't I?" + +There was nothing apologetic in his voice or bearing. On the contrary, +he spoke in a lofty, casual manner, quite as if this perfunctory +concession to the civilities were a matter of form, and was to be +so regarded by Gwynne. + +"I make it a rule to overlook, if possible, anything a man may say +when he is drinking," said Kenneth, smiling. + +Barry's pallid cheeks took on a faint red tinge; his hard eyes +seemed suddenly to become even harder than before. + +"Meaning, I suppose, that you considered me a trifle tipsy, eh?" +he said, the corner of his mouth going up in mirthless simulation +of a grin. + +"Well, you had taken something aboard, hadn't you?" + +"A drink or two, that was all," said the other, shrugging his +shoulders. "Anyhow, I have apologized for jeering at you, Gwynne, +so I've done all that a sober man should be expected to do," he +went on carelessly. "You missed it by not going down there with me +last night. I cleaned 'em out." + +"You did, eh?" + +"A cool two thousand," said the other, with a satisfaction that +bordered on exultation. "By the way, changing the subject, I'd like +to ask you a question. Has a mother the legal right to disinherit +a son in case said son marries contrary to her wishes?" + +Kenneth looked at him sharply. Could it be possible that Lapelle's +mother objected to his marriage with Viola, and was prepared to +take drastic action in case he did so? + +"Different states have different laws," he answered. "I should have +to look it up in the statutes, Barry." + +"Well, what is your own opinion?" insisted the other, impatiently. +"You fellows always have to look things up in a book before you +can say one thing or another." + +"Well, it would depend largely on circumstances," said Kenneth, +judicially. "A parent can disinherit a child if he so desires, +provided there is satisfactory cause for doing so. I doubt whether +a will would stand in case a parent attempted to deprive a child +of his or her share of an estate descending from another parent who +was deceased. For example, if your father left his estate to his +widow in its entirety, I don't believe she would have the right to +dispose of it in her will without leaving you your full and legal +share under the statutes of this or any other state. Of course, +you understand, there is nothing to prevent her making such a will. +But you could contest it and break it, I am sure." + +"That's all I want to know," said the other, drawing a deep breath +as of relief. "A close friend of mine is likely to be mixed up in +just that sort of unpleasantness, and I was a little curious to +find out whether such a will would stand the test." + +"Your friend should consult his own lawyer, if he has one, +Lapelle. That is to say, he should go to some one who knows all +the circumstances. If you want my advice, there it is. Don't take +my word for it. It is too serious a matter to be settled off-hand,--and +my opinion in the premises may be absolutely worthless." + +"I was only asking for my own satisfaction, Gwynne. No doubt my +friend has already consulted a lawyer and has been advised. I must +be off. Sorry you can't come with me." + +Kenneth would have been surprised and disturbed if he could have +known all that lay behind these casual questions. But it was not +for him to know that Viola had repeated Mrs. Gwyn's threat to her +impatient, arrogant lover, nor was it for him to connect a simple +question of law with the ugly plot that had been revealed to Isaac +Stain by Moll Hawk. + +After two nights of troubled thought, Barry Lapelle had hit upon an +extraordinary means to circumvent Rachel Gwyn. With Machiavellian +cunning he had devised a way to make Viola his wife without +jeopardizing her or his own prospects for the future. No mother, +he argued, could be so unreasonable as to disinherit a daughter who +had been carried away by force and was compelled to wed her captor +rather than submit to a more sinister alternative. + +Shortly after the noon meal, Kenneth rode up to the old Gwyn house. +He found Zachariah beaming on the front door step. + +"Yas, suh,--yas, suh!" was the servant's greeting. "Right aroun' +dis way, Marse Kenny. Watch out, suh, ailse yo' scrape yo' hat off +on dem branches." + +He grasped the bit, after his master had dismounted in the weed-covered +little roadway at the side of the house, and ceremoniously waved +his hand toward the open door. + +"Step right in, suh,--yas, suh,--an' make yo'self to home, suh. +Sit right down front of de fiah, Marse Kenny. Ah won't be more'n +two shakes, suh, stablin'--yas, suh! Come on hyar, yo' Brandy Boy! +Ise gwine show yo' whar yo's gwine to be de happies' hoss in--yas, +suh,--yas, suh!" + +The young man looked long and searchingly through the trees before +entering the house, but saw no sign of his neighbours. He thought +he detected a slight movement of a curtain in one of the windows,--the +parlor window, if his memory served him right. + +It was late in the afternoon before he saw either of his relatives. +He had had occasional glimpses of the negro servant-girl and also +of a gaunt stable-man, both of whom favoured his partially obscured +abode with frank interest and curiosity. A clumsy, silent hound +came up to the intervening fence several times during the afternoon +and inspected the newcomers with seeming indifference, an attitude +which misled Zachariah into making advances that were received with +alarming ill-temper. + +Kenneth was on his front doorstep, contemplating with secret despair +the jungle of weeds and shrubbery that lay before him, completely +obliterating the ancient path down to the gate. The whole place was +overgrown with long, broken weeds, battered into tangled masses by +the blasts of winter; at his feet were heaps of smitten burdocks +and the dead, smothered stems of hollyhocks, geraniums and other +garden plants set out and nurtured with tender care by Rachel Gwyn +during her years of occupancy. The house needed painting, the roof +required attention, the front gate was half open and immovably +imbedded in the earth. + +He was not aware of Viola's presence on the other side of the fence +dividing the two yards until her voice fell upon his ears. It was +clear and sweet and bantering. + +"I suppose you are wondering why we haven't weeded the yard for +you, brother Kenny." + +As he made his way through the weeds to the fence, upon which she +rested her elbows while she gazed upon him with a mocking smile +in the eyes that lay far back in the shovel-like hood of her black +quaker bonnet, he experienced a sudden riotous tumult in the region +of his heart. Shaded by the dark, extended wings of the bonnet, her +face was like a dusky rose possessed of the human power to smile. +The ribbon, drawn close under her chin, was tied in a huge bow-knot, +while at the back of her head the soft, loose cap of the bonnet +fitted snugly over hair that he knew would gleam with tints of +bronze if exposed to the rays of the sinking sun. + +"Not at all," he rejoined. "I am wondering just where I'd better +begin." + +"Did you find the house all right?" + +"Yes. You have saved me a lot of trouble, Viola." + +"Don't give me credit for it. Mother did everything. I suppose you +know that the furniture and other things belong to you by rights. +She didn't give them to you out of charity." + +"The last thing in the world I should expect would be charity from +your mother," he said, stung by the obvious jibe. + +She smiled tolerantly. "She is more charitable than you imagine. +It was only last night that she said she wished Barry Lapelle was +half as good and upright as you are." + +"That was very kind of her. But if such were the case, I dare say +it never would have occurred to you to fall in love with him." + +He had come up to the fence and was standing with his hand on the +top rail. She met his ironic gaze for a moment and then lowered +her eyes. + +"I wish it were possible for us to be friends, Kenny," she surprised +him by saying. "It doesn't seem right for us to hate each other," +she went on, looking up at him again. "It's not our fault that we +are who and what we are. I can understand mother's attitude toward +you. You are the son of another woman, and I suppose it is only +natural for her to be jealous. But you and I had the same father. +It--it ought to be different with us, oughtn't it?" + +"It ought to be,--and it shall be, Viola, if you are willing. It +rests entirely with you." + +"It is so hard to think of you as a brother. Somehow I wish you +were not." + +"It is pretty hard luck, isn't it? You may be sure of one thing. If +I were not your brother I would be Barry Lapelle's most determined +rival." + +She did not laugh at this. On the contrary, her eyes clouded. + +"The funny part of it is, Kenny, I have been wondering what would +have happened if you had come here as a total stranger and not as +my relation." Then she smiled whimsically. "Goodness knows poor +Barry is having a hard enough time of it as it is, but what a time +he would be having if you were some one else. You see, you are very +good-looking, Kenny, and I am a very silly, frivolous, susceptible +little goose." + +"You are nothing of the kind," he exclaimed warmly, adding in some +embarrassment, "except when you say that I am good-looking." + +"And I have also been wondering how many girls have been in love +with you," she went on archly; "and whether you have a sweetheart +now,--some one you are engaged to. You needn't be afraid to tell +me. I can keep a secret. Is there some one back in Kentucky +or in the east who--" + +"No such luck," whispered simple, honest Kenneth. "No one will have +me." + +"Have you ever asked anybody?" she persisted. + +"No,--I haven't." + +"Then, how do you know that no one will have you?" + +"Well, of course, I--I mean to say I can't imagine any one caring +for me in that way." + +"Don't you expect ever to get married?" + +"Why,--er,--naturally I--" he stammered, bewildered at this +astonishing attack. + +"Because if you want to remain a bachelor, I would advise you not +to ask any one of half a dozen girls in this town that I could +mention. They would take you so quick your head would swim." + +By this time he had recovered himself. Affecting grave solicitude, +he inquired: + +"Is there any one here that you would particularly desire as a +sister-in-law?" + +She shook her head, almost pensively. "I don't want you to bring +any more trouble into the family than you've already brought, and +goodness knows THAT would be doing it. But I shouldn't have said +that, Kenny. There are lots of fine, lovely girls here. I wouldn't +know which one to pick out for you if you were to ask me to do your +choosing." + +"I will leave it entirely in your hands," said he, grinning boyishly. +"Pick me out a nice, amiable, rather docile young lady,--some one +who will come the nearest to being a perfect sister-in-law, and +I will begin sparking her at once. By the way, I hope matters are +going more smoothly for you and Barry." + +Her face clouded. She shot a suspicious, questioning look at him. + +"I--I want to talk to you about Barry some day," she said seriously. + +"You seemed to resent it most bitterly the last time I attempted +to talk to you about him," said he, somewhat pointedly. + +"You were horrid that day," said she. "I have a good deal to forgive. +You said some very mean, nasty things to me that day over there," +indicating the thicket with a jerk of her head. + +"I am glad to see that you took them to heart and have profited," +he ventured boldly. + +She hesitated, and then spoke with a frankness that shamed him. +"Yes, I did take them to heart, Kenny. I will not say that I have +profited, but I'll never make the same kind of a fool of myself +again. I hated you with all my soul that day,--and for a long time +afterward,--but I guess you took the right way with me, after all. +If I was fair and square, I would say that I am grateful to you. +But, you see, I am not fair and square. I am as stubborn as a mule." + +"The best thing about a mule is that he takes his whalings without +complaining." + +She sighed. "I often wonder what a mule thinks about when he stands +there without budging while some angry, infuriated man beats him +until his arm gets tired." + +"That's very simple. He just goes on thinking what a fool the man +is for licking a mule." + +"Good! I hope you will remember that the next time you try to reason +with me." + +"What is it you want to say to me about Barry?" he asked, abruptly. + +"Oh, there is plenty of time for that," she replied, frowning. "It +will keep. How are you getting along with the house?" + +"Splendidly. It was in very good order. I will be settled in a +day or two and as comfortable as anything. To-night Zachariah and +I are going to make a list of everything we need and to-morrow I +shall start out on a purchasing tour. I intend to buy quite a lot +of new furniture, things for the kitchen, carpets and--" + +Viola interrupted him with an exclamation. Her eyes were shining, +sparkling with eagerness. + +"Oh, won't you take me along with you? Mr. Hanna has just received +a wonderful lot of things from down the river, and at Benbridge & +Foster's they have a new stock of--" + +"Hurrah!" he broke in jubilantly. "It's just what I wanted, Viola. +Now you are being a real sister to me. We will start early in the +morning and--and buy out the town. Bless your heart, you've taken +a great load off my mind. I haven't the intelligence of a snipe +when it comes to fitting up a--why, say, I tell you what I'll do. +I will let you choose everything I need, just as if you were setting +up housekeeping for yourself. Curtains, table cloths, carpets, +counterpanes, china, Queensware, chairs, chests--" + +"Brooms, clothes-pins, rolling-pins, skillets, dough-bowls, cutlery--" + +"Bureaus, looking-glasses, wardrobe, antimacassar tidies, bedspreads, +towels--" + +"Oh, Kenny, what fun we'll have," she cried. "And, first of all, +you must let me come over right now and help you with your list. +I know much better than you do what you really need,--and what you +don't need. We must not spend too much money, you see." + +"'Gad," he gulped, "you--you talk just as if you and I were a poor, +struggling young couple planning to get married." + +"No, it only proves how mean and selfish I am. I am depriving your +future bride of the pleasure of furnishing her own house, and that's +what all brides like better than anything. But I promise to pick +out things that I know she will like. In the meantime, you will +be happy in knowing that you have something handsome to tempt her +with when the time comes. As soon as you are all fixed up, you +must give a party. That will settle everything. They'll all want +to marry you,--and they'll have something to remember me by when +I'm gone. Come on, Kenny, let's go in and start making the list." + +She started off toward her own gate, but stopped as he called out +to her. + +"Wait! Are you sure your mother will approve of your--" + +"Of course she will!" she flung back at him. "She doesn't mind our +being friendly. Only,"--and she came back a few steps, "I am afraid +she will never be friends with you, Kenny. I am sorry." + +He was silent. She waited for a moment before turning away, shaking +her head slightly as if attempting to dismiss something that perplexed +her sorely. There was a yearning in his eyes as they followed her +down to the gate; then he shot a quick, accusing glance at the +house in which his enemy lived. He saw the white curtains in the +north parlor window drop into place, flutter for a second or two, +and then hang perfectly still. Rachel Gwyn had been watching them. +He made no effort to hide the scowl that darkened his brow as he +continued to stare resentfully at the window. + +He met Viola at his own disabled gate, which cracked and shivered +precariously on its rusty hinges as he jerked it open. + +"I lived for nearly three years in this house, Kenny," she said +as she picked her way through the weeds. "I slept on a very hard +straw tick up in the attic. It was dreadfully cold in the winter +time. I used to shiver all night long curled up with my knees +up to my chin. And in the summer time it was so hot I slept with +absolutely nothing,--" She broke off in sudden confusion. "Our new +house is only about a year old," she went after a moment. Pointing, +she added: "That is my bedroom window up there. You can get a glimpse +of it through the trees but when the leaves are out you can't see +it at all from here." + +"I shall keep an eye on that window," said he, with mock severity, +"and if ever I catch you climbing down on a ladder to run away +with--well, I'll wake the dead for miles around with my yells. See +to it, my dear sister, that you attempt nothing rash at the dead +hour of night." + +She laughed. "Have you seen our dog? I pity the valiant knight who +tries to put a ladder up to my window." + +They spent the better part of an hour going over the house. She was +in an adorable mood. Once she paused in the middle of a sentence +to ask why he was so solemn. + +"Goodness me, Kenny, you look as if you had lost your very best +friend. Aren't you interested? Shall we stop?" + +A feeling of utter desolation had stricken him. He was sick at +heart. Every drop of blood in his body was crying out for her. +Small wonder that despair filled his soul and lurked in his gloomy, +disconsolate eyes. She had removed her bonnet. If he had thought +her beautiful on that memorable night at Striker's he now realized +that his first impression was hopelessly inadequate. Her eyes, +dancing with eagerness, no longer reflected the disdain and suspicion +with which she had regarded him on that former occasion. Her smile +was frank and warm and joyous. He saw her now as she really was, +incomparably sweet and charming--and so his heart was sick. + +"I wouldn't stop for the world," he exclaimed, making a determined +effort to banish the tell-tale misery from his eyes. + +"I know!" she cried, after a searching look into his eyes. "You +are in love with some one, Kenny, and you are wishing that she were +here in my place, helping you to plan the--" + +"Nonsense," he broke in gruffly. "Put that out of your head, Viola. +I tell you there is no--er--no such girl." + +"Then," she said darkly, "it must be the dreadful extravagance I +am leading you into. Goodness, when I look at this list, I realize +what a lot of money it is going to take to--" + +"We're not half through," he said, "and I am not thinking of +the expense. I am delighted with everything you have suggested. I +shudder when I think how helpless I should have been without you. +Didn't I tell you in the beginning that I wanted you to fix this +house up just as if you were planning to live in it yourself? Put +down all the things you would most like to have, Viola, and--and--well, +confound the expense. Come along! We're losing time. Did you jot +down that last thing we were talking about? That--er--that--" He +paused, wrinkling his forehead. + +"I don't believe you have been paying any attention to what--Now, +tell me, what WAS the last thing we were talking about?" + +He squinted hard at the little blank book in her hand. She closed +it with a snap. + +"Have you got it down?" he demanded severely. + +"I have." + +"Then, there's no use worrying about it," he said, with great +satisfaction. "Now, let me see: don't you think I ought to have a +clock for the mantelpiece?" + +"I put that down half an hour ago," she said. "The big gold French +clock I was telling you about." + +"That's so. The one you like so well down at Currie's." + +They proceeded. He had followed about, carrying the ink pot into +which she frequently dipped the big quill pen. She overlooked +nothing in the scantily furnished house. She even went so far as +to timidly suggest that certain articles of furniture might well +be replaced by more attractive ones, and he had promptly agreed. +At last she announced that she must go home. + +"If you buy all the things we have put down here, Kenny, you will +have the loveliest house in Lafayette. My, how I shall envy you!" + +"I have a feeling I shall be very lonely--amidst all this splendour," +he said. + +"Oh, no, you won't. I shall run in to see you every whipstitch. +You will get awfully sick of having me around." + +"I am thinking of the time when you are married, Viola, and,--and +have gone away from Lafayette." + +"Well," she began, her brow clouding, "you seem to have got along +without me for a good many years,--so I guess you won't miss me as +much as you think. Besides, we are supposed to be enemies, aren't +we?" + +"It doesn't look much like it now, does it?" + +"No," she said dubiously, "but I--I must not do anything that will +make mother feel unhappy or--" + +He broke in a little harshly. "Are you forgetting how unhappy it +will make her if you marry Barry Lapelle?" + +"Oh, that may be a long way off," she replied calmly. "You see, Barry +and I quarrelled yesterday. We both have vile tempers,--perfectly +detestable tempers. Of course, we will make up again--we always +do--but there may come a time when he will say, 'Oh, what's the +use trying to put up with you any longer?' and then it will all be +over." + +She was tying her bonnet strings as she made this astonishing +statement. Her chin being tilted upward, she looked straight up +into his eyes the while her long, shapely fingers busied themselves +with the ribbons. + +"I guess you have found out what kind of a temper I have, haven't +you?" she added genially. As he said nothing (being unable to trust +his voice): "I know I shall lead poor Barry a dog's life. If he +knew what was good for him he would avoid me as he would the plague." + +He swallowed hard. "You--you will not fail to come with me to-morrow +morning on the purchasing tour," he said, rather gruffly. "I'll be +helpless without you." + +"I wouldn't miss it for anything," she cried. + +As they walked down to the gate she turned to him and abruptly +said: + +"Barry is going down the river next week. He expects to be away +for nearly a fortnight. Has he said anything to you about it?" + +Kenneth started. Next week? The dark of the moon. + +"Not a word," he replied grimly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A MAN FROM DOWN THE RIVER + + +Kenneth's first night in the old Gwyn house was an uneasy, restless +one, filled with tormenting doubts as to his strength or even his +willingness to continue the battle against the forces of nature. + +Viola's night was also disturbed. Some strange, mysterious instinct +was at work within her, although she was far from being aware of +its significance. She lay awake for a long time thinking of him. +She was puzzled. Over and over again she asked herself why she had +blushed when he looked down at her as she was tying her bonnet-strings, +and why had she felt that queer little thrill of alarm? And why did +he look at her like that? She answered this question by attributing +its curious intensity to a brotherly interest--which was quite +natural--and the awakening of a dutiful affection--but that did +not in any sense account for the blood rushing to her face, so that +she must have reminded him of a "turkey gobbler." She announced to +her mother at breakfast: + +"I don't believe I can ever think of Kenny as a brother." + +Rachel Gwyn looked up, startled. "What was that you called him?" +she asked. + +"Kenny. He has always been called that for short. And somehow, +mother, it sounds familiar to me. Have I ever heard father speak +of him by that name?" + +"I--I am sure I do not know," replied her mother uneasily. "I doubt +it. It must be a fancy, Viola." + +"I can't get over feeling shy and embarrassed when he looks at me," +mused the girl. "Don't you think it odd? It doesn't seem natural +for a girl to feel that way about a brother." + +"It is because you are not used to each other," interrupted Rachel. +"You will get over it in time." + +"I suppose so. You are sure you don't mind my going to the stores +with him, mother?" + +Her mother arose from the table. There was a suggestion of fatalism +in her reply. "I think I can understand your desire to be with +him." She went to the kitchen window and looked over at the house +next door. "He is out in his back yard now, Viola," she said, after +a long pause, "all dressed and waiting for you. You had better get +ready." + +"It will not hurt him to wait awhile," said Viola perversely. "In +fact, it will do him good. He thinks he is a very high and mighty +person, mother." She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. "I +shall keep him waiting for just an hour." + +Rachel's strong, firm shoulders drooped a little as she passed +into the sitting-room. She sat down abruptly in one of the stiff +rocking-chairs, and one with sharp ears might have heard her whisper +to herself: + +"We cannot blindfold the eyes of nature. They see through everything." + +It was nine o'clock when Viola stepped out into her front yard, +reticule in hand, and sauntered slowly down the walk, stopping +now and then to inspect some Maytime shoot. He was waiting for her +outside his own gate. + +"What a sleepy-head you are," was her greeting as she came up to +him. + +"I've been up since six o'clock," he said. + +"Then, for goodness' sake, why have you kept me waiting all this +time?" + +"My dear Viola, I was not born yesterday, nor yet the day before," +he announced, with aggravating calmness. "Long before you were out +of short frocks and pantalettes I was a wise old gentleman." + +"I don't know just what you mean by that." + +"I learned a great many years ago that it is always best to admit +you are in fault when a charming young lady says you are. If you +had kept me waiting till noon I should still consider it my duty +to apologize. Which I now do." + +She laughed merrily. "Come along with you. We have much to do on +this fine May day. First, we will go to the hardware store, saving +the queensware store till the last,--like float at the end of a +Sunday dinner." + +And so they advanced upon the town, as fine a pair as you would +find in a twelvemonth's search. First she conducted him to Jimmy +Munn's feed and wagon-yard, where he contracted to spend the +first half-dollar of the expedition by engaging Jimmy to haul his +purchases up to the house. + +"Put the sideboards on your biggest wagon, Jimmy," was Viola's +order, "and meet us at Hinkle's." + +She proved to be a very sweet and delightful autocrat. For three +short and joyous hours she led him from store to store, graciously +leaving to him the privilege of selection but in nine cases out of +ten demonstrating that he was entirely wrong in his choice, always +with the naive remark after the purchase was completed and the +money paid in hand: "Of course, Kenny, if you would rather have +the other, don't for the world let me influence you." + +"You know more about it than I do," he would invariably declare. +"What do I know about carpets?"--or whatever they happened to be +considering at the time. + +She was greatly dismayed, even appalled, as they wended their way +homeward, followed by the first wagonload of possessions, to find +that he had spent the stupendous, unparalleled sum of two hundred +and forty-two dollars and fifty cents. + +"Oh, dear!" she sighed. "We must take a lot of it back, Kenny. Why +didn't you keep track of what you were spending? Why, that's nearly +a fourth of one thousand dollars." + +He grinned cheerfully. "And we haven't begun to paint the house +yet, or paper the walls, or set out the flower beds, or--" + +"Goodness me!" she cried, aghast. "You are not going to do all that +now, are you?" + +"Every bit of it," he affirmed. "I am going to rebuild the barn, +put in a new well, dig a cistern, build a smoke-house, lay a brick +walk down to the front gate and put up a brand new picket fence--" + +"You must be made of money," she cried, eyeing him with wonder in +her big, violet eyes. + +"I am richer now than when we started out this morning," said he, +magnificently. + +"When you say things like that, you almost make me wish you were +not my brother," said she, after a moment, and to her annoyance +she felt the blood mount to her face. + +"And what would you do if I were not your brother?" he inquired, +looking straight ahead. + +Whereupon she laughed unrestrainedly. "You would be dreadfully +shocked if I were to tell you,--but I can't help saying that Barry +would be so jealous he wouldn't know what to do." + +"You might find yourself playing with fire." + +"Well," she said, flippantly, "I've got over wanting to play with +dolls. Now don't scold me! I can see by your face that you'd like to +shake me good and hard. My, what a frown! I am glad it isn't January. +If your face was to freeze--There! That's better. I shouldn't mind +at all if it froze now. You look much nicer when you smile, Kenny." +Her voice dropped a little and a serious expression came into her +eyes. "I don't believe I ever saw father smile. But I've seen him +when he looked exactly as you did just then. I--I hope you don't +mind my talking that way about your father, Kenny. I wouldn't if +he were not mine as well." + +"You knew him far better than I," he reminded her. Then he added +brightly: "I shall try to do better from now on. I'll smile--if it +kills me." + +"Don't do that," she protested, with a pretty grimace. "I've been +in mourning for ages, it seems, and I'm sure I should hate you if +you kept me in black for another year or two." + +As they parted at Kenneth's gate,--it seemed to be mutely understood +that he was to go no farther,--they observed a tall, black figure +cross the little front porch of the house beyond and disappear +through the door. Kenneth's eyes hardened. The girl, looking up +into those eyes, shook her head and smiled wistfully. + +"Will you come over and help me put all these things where they +belong?" he asked, after a moment. + +"This afternoon, Kenny?" + +"If you haven't anything else you would rather--" he began. + +"I can't wait to see how the house will look when we get everything +in place. I will be over right after dinner,--unless mother needs +me for something." + +. . . . . + +That evening Zachariah was noticeably perturbed. He had prepared +a fine supper, and to his distress it was scarcely touched by his +preoccupied master. Now, Zachariah was proud of his cooking. He was +pleased to call himself, without fear of contradiction, "a natteral +bo'n cook, from de bottom up." Moreover, his master was a gentleman +whose appetite was known to be absolutely reliable; it could be +depended upon at almost any hour of the day or night. Small wonder +then that Zachariah was not only mystified but grieved as well. He +eyed the solemn looking young man with anxiety. + +"Ain't yo' all feelin' well, Marse Kenneth?" he inquired, with a +justifiable trace of exasperation in his voice. + +"What's that, Zachariah?" asked Kenneth, startled out of a profound +reverie. + +"Is dey anything wrong wid dat ham er--" + +"It is wonderful, Zachariah. I don't believe I have ever tasted +better ham,--and certainly none so well broiled." + +"Ain't--ain't de co'n-bread fitten to eat, suh?" + +"Delicious, Zachariah, delicious. You have performed wonders with +the--er--new baking pan and--" + +"What's de matteh wid dem b'iled pertaters, suh?" + +"Matter with them? Nothing! They are fine." + +"Well, den, suh, if dere ain't nothin' de matteh wid de vittels, +dere suttinly mus' be somefin de matteh wid you, Marse Kenneth. +Yo' all ain't etten enough fo' to fill a grasshoppeh." + +"I am not hungry," apologized his master, quite humbly. + +"'Cause why? Yas, suh,--'cause why?" retorted Zachariah, exercising +a privilege derived from long and faithful service. "'Cause Miss +Viola she done got yo' all bewitched. Can't fool dis yere nigger. +Wha' fo' is yo' all feelin' dis yere way 'bout yo' own sister? +Yas, suh,--Ah done had my eyes open all de time, suh. Yo' all was +goin' 'round lookin' like a hongry dog, 'spectin'--Yas, suh! Yas, +SUH! Take plenty, suh, Marse Johnson he say to me, he say, 'Dis yere +sap come right outen de finest maple tree in de State ob Indianny, +day befo' yesterday,' he say. A leetle mo' coffee, suh? Yas, suh! +Das right! Yo' suttinly gwine like dat ham soon as ever yo' get a +piece in yo' mouth,--yas, SUH!" + +Kenneth's abstraction was due to the never-vanishing picture +of Viola, the sleeves of her work-dress rolled up to the elbows, +her eyes aglow with enthusiasm, her bonny brown hair done up in +careless coils, her throat bare, her spirits as gay as the song of +a roistering gale. She had come over prepared for toil, an ample +apron of blue gingham shielding her frock, her skirts caught up +at the sides, revealing the bottom of her white petticoat and a +glimpse of trim, shapely ankles. + +She directed the placing of all the furniture carried in by the +grunting Jimmy Munn and Zachariah; she put the china safe and pantry +in order; she superintended the erection of the big four poster +bed, measured the windows for the new curtains, issued irrevocable +commands concerning the hanging of several gay English hunting +prints (the actual hanging to be done by Kenneth and his servant +in a less crowded hour,--after supper, she suggested); ordered +Zachariah to remove to the attic such of the discarded articles of +furniture as could be carried up the pole ladder, the remainder to +go to the barn; left instructions not to touch the rolls of carpet +until she could measure and cut them into sections, and then went +away with the promise to return early in the morning not only +with shears and needle but with Hattie as well, to sew and lay the +carpets,--a "Brussels" of bewildering design and an "ingrain" for +the bedroom. + +"When you come home from the office at noon, Kenny, don't fail to +bring tacks and a hammer with you," she instructed, as she fanned +her flushed face with her apron. + +"But I am not going to the office," he expostulated. "I have too +much to see to here." + +"It isn't customary for the man of the house to be anywhere around +at a time like this," she informed him, firmly. "Besides you ought +to be down town looking for customers. How do you know that some one +may not be in a great hurry for a lawyer and you not there to--" + +"There are plenty of other lawyers if one is needed in a hurry," +he protested. "And what's more, I can't begin to practise law in +this State without going through certain formalities. You don't +understand all these things, Viola." + +"Perhaps not," she admitted calmly; "but I do understand moving +and house-cleaning, and I know that a man is generally in the way +at such times. Oh, don't look so hurt. You have been fine this +afternoon. I don't know how I should have got along without you. +But to-morrow it will be different. Hattie and I will be busy sewing +carpets and--and--well, you really will not be of any use at all, +Kenny. So please stay away." + +He was sorely disgruntled at the time and so disconsolate later on +that it required Zachariah's startling comment to lift him out of +the slough of despond. Spurred by the desire to convince his servant +that his speculations were groundless, he made a great to-do over +the imposed task of hanging the pictures, jesting merrily about the +possibility of their heads being snapped off by Mistress Viola if +she popped in the next morning to find that they had bungled the +job. + +Four or five days passed, each with its measure of bitter and +sweet. By the end of the week the carpets were down and the house +in perfect order. He invited her over for Sunday dinner. A pained, +embarrassed look came into her eyes. + +"I was afraid you would ask me to come," she said gently. "I don't +think it would be right or fair for me to accept your hospitality. +Wait! I know what you are going to say. But it isn't quite the +same, you see. Mother has been very kind and generous about letting +me come over to help you with the house,--and I suppose she would +not object if I were to come as your guest at dinner,--but I have +a feeling in here somewhere that it would hurt her if I came here +as your guest. So I sha'n't come. You understand, don't you?" "Yes," +he said gravely,--and reluctantly. "I understand, Viola." + +Earlier in the week he had ridden out to Isaac Stain's. The hunter +had no additional news to give him, except that Barry, after spending +a day with Martin Hawk, had gone down to Attica by flat-boat and +was expected to return to Lafayette on the packet Paul Revere, due +on Monday or Tuesday. + +Lapelle's extended absence from the town was full of meaning. +Stain advanced the opinion that he had gone down the river for the +purpose of seeing a Williamsport justice of the peace whose record +was none too good and who could be depended upon to perform the +contemplated marriage ceremony without compunction if his "palm +was satisfactorily greased." + +"If we could only obtain some clear and definite idea as to their +manner of carrying out this plan," said Kenneth, "I would be the +happiest man on earth. But we will be compelled to work in the +dark,--simply waiting for them to act." + +"Well, Moll Hawk hain't been able to find out just yet when er how +they're goin' to do it," said Stain. "All she knows is that two +or three men air comin' up from Attica on the Paul Revere and air +goin' to get off the boat when it reaches her pa's place. Like +as not this scalawag of a justice will be one of 'em, but that's +guesswork. That reminds me to ask, did you ever run acrosst a feller +in the town you come from named Jasper Suggs?" + +"Jasper Suggs? I don't recall the name." + +"Well, she says this feller Suggs that's been stayin' at Martin's +cabin fer a week er two claims to have lived there some twenty +odd years ago. Guess you must ha' been too small to recollect him. +She says he sort of brags about bein' a renegade durin' the war +an' fightin' on the side of the Injins up along the Lakes. He's +a nasty customer, she says. Claims to be a relation of old Simon +Girty's,--nephew er something like that." + +"Does he claim to have known any of my family down there?" inquired +Kenneth, apprehensively. + +"From what Moll says he must have knowed your pa. Leastwise, he +says the name's familiar. He was sayin' only a day or two ago that +he'd like to see a picter of your pa. He'd know if it was the same +feller he used to know soon as he laid eyes on it." + +Kenneth pondered a moment and then said: "Do you suppose you could +get a letter to Moll Hawk if I were to write it, Stain?" + +"I could," said the other, "but it wouldn't do any good. She cain't +read er write. Besides, if I was you, I wouldn't risk anything +like that. It might fall into Hawk's hands, and the fust thing he +would do would be to turn it over to Lapelle,--'cause Martin cain't +read himself." + +"I was only wondering if she could find out a little more about +this man Suggs,--just when he lived there and--and all that." + +"He's purty close-mouthed, she says. Got to be, I reckon. He fell +in with Martin ten er twelve years ago, an' there was a price on +his head then. Martin hid him for awhile an' helped him to git safe +away. Like as not Suggs ain't his real name anyhow." + +Kenneth was a long time in deciding to speak to Rachel Gwyn about +the man Suggs. He found an opportunity to accost her on the day +that the Paul Revere came puffing up to the little log-built landing +near the ferry. Viola had left the house upon learning that the +boat had turned the bend in the river two or three miles below town, +and had made no secret of her intention to greet Lapelle when he +came ashore. This was Gwynne's first intimation that she was aware +of her lover's plan to return by the Paul Revere. He was distinctly +annoyed by the discovery. + +Rachel was in her back yard, feeding the chickens, when he came +up to the fence and waited for her to look in his direction. All +week,--in fact, ever since he had come up there to live,--he had +been uncomfortably conscious of peering eyes behind the curtains in +the parlor window. Time and again he had observed a slight flutter +when he chanced to glance that way, as of a sudden release of the +curtains held slightly apart by one who furtively watched from +within. On the other hand, she never so much as looked toward his +house when she was out in her own yard or while passing by on the +road. Always she was the straight, stern, unfriendly figure in black, +wrapped in her own thoughts, apparently ignorant of all that went +on about her. + +She turned at last and saw him standing there. + +"May I have a word with you?" he said. + +She did not move nor did she speak for many seconds, but stood +staring hard at him from the shade of her deep black bonnet. + +"What is it you want, Kenneth Gwynne?" + +"No favour, you may be sure, Rachel Carter." + +She seemed to wince a little. After a moment's hesitation, she +walked slowly over to the fence and faced him. + +"Well?" she said curtly. + +"Do you remember a man at home named Jasper Suggs?" + +"Are you speaking of my old home in Salem or of--of another place?" + +"The place where I was born," he said, succinctly. + +"I have never heard the name before," she said. "Why do you ask?" + +"There is a man in this neighbourhood,--a rascal, I am told,--who +says he lived there twenty years ago." + +She eyed him narrowly. "Well,--go on! What has he to say about me?" + +"Nothing, so far as I know. I have not talked with him. It came to +me in a roundabout way. He is staying with a man named Hawk, down +near the Wea." "He keeps pretty company," was all she said in +response to this. + +"I have been told that he would like to see a daguerreotype of my +father some time, just to make sure whether he was the Gwynne he +used to know." + +"Has he ever seen you, Kenneth Gwynne?" She appeared to be absolutely +unconcerned. + +"No." + +"One look at you would be sufficient," she said. "If you are both +so curious, why not arrange a meeting?" + +"I am in no way concerned," he retorted. "On the other hand, I +should think you would be vitally interested, Rachel Carter. If he +knew my father, he certainly must have known you." + +"Very likely. What would you have me do?" she went on ironically. +"Go to him and beg him to be merciful? Or, if it comes to the worst, +hire some one to assassinate him?" + +"I am not thinking of your peace of mind. I am thinking of Viola's. +We have agreed, you and I, to spare her the knowledge of--" + +"Quite true," she interrupted. "You and I have agreed upon that, +but there it ends. We cannot include the rest of the world. Chance +sends this man, whoever he may be, to this country. I must likewise +depend upon Chance to escape the harm he may be in a position to +do me. Is it not possible that he may have left before I came there +to live? That chance remains, doesn't it?" + +"Yes," he admitted. "It is possible. I can tell you something about +him. He is related to Simon Girty, and he was a renegade who fought +with the Indians up north during the war. Does that throw any light +upon his identity?" + +"He says his name is Suggs?" she inquired. + +He was rewarded by a sharp catch in her breath and a passing flicker +of her eyes. + +"Jasper Suggs." + +She was silent for a moment. "I know him," she said calmly. "His +name is Simon Braley. At any rate, there was a connection of Girty's +who went by that name and who lived down there on the river for +a year or two. He killed the man he was working for and escaped. +That was before I--before I left the place. I don't believe he ever +dared to go back. So, you see, Chance favours us again, Kenneth +Gwynne." + +"You forget that he will no doubt remember you as Rachel Carter. +He will also remember that you had a little girl." + +"Let me remind you that I remember the cold-blooded murder of John +Hendricks and that nobody has been hung for it yet," she said. +"My memory is as good as his if it should come to pass that we are +forced to exchange compliments. Thank you for the information. The +sheriff of this county is a friend of mine. He will be pleased to +know that Simon Braley, murderer and renegade, is in his bailiwick. +From what I know of Simon Girty's nephew, he is not the kind of +man who will be taken alive." + +He started. "You mean,--that you will send the sheriff out to arrest +him?" + +She shook her head. "Not exactly," she replied. "Did you not hear +me say that Simon Braley would never be taken alive?" + +With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him to stare after +her until she entered the kitchen door. He was conscious of a sense +of horror that began to send a chill through his veins. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE LANDING OF THE "PAUL REVERE" + + +The Paul Revere tied up at the landing shortly after two o'clock. +The usual crowd of onlookers thronged the bank, attention being +temporarily diverted from an important game of "horseshoes" that +was taking place in the sugar grove below Trentman's shanty. + +Pitching horseshoes was the daily fair-weather pastime of the male +population of the town. At one time or another during the course +of the day, practically every man in the place came down to the +grove to shy horseshoes at the stationary but amazingly elusive pegs. +It was not an uncommon thing for a merchant to close his place of +business for an hour or so in order to keep an engagement to pitch +horseshoes with some time-honoured adversary. + +On this occasion a very notable match was in progress between +"Judge" Billings and Mr. Pennington Sawyer, the real estate agent. +They were the recognized champions. Both were accredited with the +astonishing feat of ringing eight out of ten casts at twenty paces; +if either was more than six inches away from the stake on any try +the crowd mutely attributed the miss to inhibitions of the night +before. Not only was the betting lively when these two experts met +but all other matches were abandoned during the classic clash. + +The "Judge" did not owe his title to service on the bench nor +even at the bar of justice. It had been bestowed upon him by a +liberal-minded community because of his proficiency as a judge of +horse races, foot races, shooting matches, dog or rooster fights, and +other activities of a similar character. He was, above all things, +a good judge of whiskey. When not engaged in judging one thing +or another, he managed to eke out a comfortable though sometimes +perilous living by trading horses,--a profession which made him +an almost infallible judge of men, notwithstanding two or three +instances where he had erred with painful results to his person. +Notably, the prodigious thrashing Jake Miller had given him two days +after a certain trade, and an almost identical experience with Bud +Shanks who had given a perfectly sound mare and seventeen dollars +to boot for a racehorse that almost blew up with the heaves before +Bud was half-way home. + +But, whatever his reputation may have been as a horse-trader, "Judge" +Billings was unaffectedly noble when it came to judging a contest +of any description. Far and wide he was known to be "as honest as +the day is long," proof of which may be obtained from his publicly +uttered contention that "nobody but a derned fool would do anything +crooked while a crowd was lookin' on, with more'n half of 'em +carryin' guns or some other weapon that can't be expected to listen +to argument." + +He was Kenneth Gwynne's first client. In employing the young +man to defend a suit brought by Silas Kenwright, he ingenuously +announced that the plaintiff had a perfectly good case and that his +only object in fighting the claim was to see how near Silas could +come to telling the truth under oath. Mr. Kenwright was demanding +twenty-five dollars damages for slander. In the complaint Mr. +Billings was charged with having held Mr. Kenwright up to ridicule +and contumely by asseverating that said plaintiff was "a knock-kneed, +cross-eyed, red-headed, white-livered liar." + +"The only chance we've got," he explained to Gwynne, "is on the +question of his liver. We can prove he's a liar,--in fact, he admits +that,--but, doggone it, he's as bow-legged as a barrel hoop, he's +wall-eyed, and what little hair he's got is as black as the ace +o' spades. I don't suppose the Court would listen to a request to +have him opened up to see what colour his liver is,--and that's +where he's got us. It ain't so much being called a liar that riles +him; he's used to that. It's being called knock-kneed and cross-eyed. +He don't mind the white-livered part so much, or the way I spoke +about his hair, 'cause one of 'em you can't see an' the other +could be dyed or sheared right down to the skin if the worst came +to the worst. If I'd only called him a lousy, ornery, low-lived, +sheep-stealing liar, this here suit never would have been brought. +But what did I do but up and hurt his feelings by callin' him +knock-kneed and cross-eyed. That comes of not stickin' to the truth, +Mr. Gwynne,--and it's a derned good lesson for me. Honesty is the +best policy, as the feller says. It'll probably cost me forty or +fifty dollars for being so slack with my veracity." + +Kenneth's suggestion that an effort be made to settle the controversy +out of court had met with instant opposition. + +"It ain't to be thought of," declared Mr. Billings firmly. "Why, +dodgast it, you don't suppose I'm going to pay that feller any +money, do you? Not much! I'm willing enough to let him get a judgment +against me for any amount he wants, just fer the fun of it, but, +by gosh, when you begin to talk about me giving him money, why, +that's serious. I'm willing to pay you your ten dollars fee and +the court costs, but the only way Si Kenwright can ever collect a +penny from me will be after I'm dead and he sneaks in when nobody's +around and steals the coppers off my eyes." + +This digression serves a simple purpose. It introduces a sporty +gentleman of unique integrity whose friendship for Kenneth Gwynne +flowered as time went on and ultimately bore such fruits as only the +most favoured of men may taste. In passing he may be described as +a pudgy, middle-aged individual, with mild blue eyes, an engaging +smile, cherubic cheeks, sandy hair, and a highly pitched, +far-reaching voice. He also had a bulbous nose resembling a large, +ripe strawberry. + +Before coming to rest alongside the wharf, the Paul Revere indulged +in a vast amount of noise. She whistled and coughed and sputtered +and gasped with all the spasmodic energy of a choking monster; her +bells kept up an incessant clangour; her wheel creaked and grovelled +on the bed of the river, churning the water into a yellowish, +foaming mass; her captain bellowed and barked, her crew yelped, +her passengers shouted; the flat boats and perogues moored along +the bank, aroused from their lassitude, began to romp gaily in the +swirl of her crazy backwash; ropes whined and rasped and groaned, +the deck rattled hollowly with the tread of heavy feet and the +shifting of boxes and barrels and crates; the gangplank came down +with a crash,--and so the mighty hundred and fifty ton leviathan +of the Wabash came to the end of her voyage! + +There were a score of passengers on board, among them Barry Lapelle. +He kept well in the rear of the motley throng of voyagers, an +elegant, lordly figure, approached only in sartorial distinction +by the far-famed gambler, Sylvester Hornaday, who likewise held +himself sardonically aloof from the common horde, occupying a +position well forward where, it might aptly be said, he could count +his sheep as they straggled ashore. + +From afar Barry had recognized Viola standing among the people at +the top of the bank, and his eager, hungry gaze had not left her. +She, too, had caught sight of him long before the boat was near +the landing. She waved her kerchief. + +He lifted his hat and blew a kiss to her. A thrill of exultation +ran through him. He had not expected her to meet him at the landing. +Her mere presence there was evidence of a determination to defy +not only her mother but also to brave the storm of gossip that was +bound to attend this public demonstration of loyalty on her part, +for none knew so well as he how the townspeople looked upon their +attachment. A most satisfying promise for the future, he gloated; +here was the proof that she loved him, that her tantalizing +outbursts of temper were not to be taken seriously, that his power +over her was irresistible. There were times when he felt uncomfortably +dubious as to his hold upon her affections. She was whimsical, +perverse, maddening in her sudden transitions of mood. And she +had threatened more than once to have nothing more to do with him +unless he mended his ways! Now he smiled triumphantly as he gazed +upon her. All that pother about nothing! Henceforth he would pay +no attention to her whims; let her rail and fume and lecture as +much as she liked, there was nothing for him to be worried about. +She would always come round like a lamb,--and when she was his for +keeps he would take a lot of the nonsense out of her! + +With few exceptions the passengers on board the Revere were +strangers,--fortune-seekers, rovers, land-buyers and prospectors +from the east and south come to this well-heralded region of promise, +perhaps to stay, perhaps to pass on. Three or four Lafayette men, +home after a trip down the river, crowded their way ashore, to be +greeted by anxious wives. The strangers were more leisurely in their +movements. They straggled ashore with their nondescript possessions +and ambled off between two batteries of frank, appraising eyes. + +Judge Billings, shrewd calculator of human values, quite audibly +disclosed his belief that at least three of the newcomers would +have to be run out of town before they were a day older, possibly +astraddle of a rail. + +One of these marked individuals was a tall, swart, bearded fellow +with black, shifty eyes and a scowling brow. His baggage consisted +of a buckskin sack slung across his shoulder and a small bundle +which he carried under his arm. He appeared to have no acquaintances +among the voyagers. + +"You don't know how happy this makes me, Viola," exclaimed Lapelle +as he clasped the girl's hand in his. He was devouring her with a +bold, consuming gaze. + +She reddened. "I told mother I was coming down to meet you," she +explained, visibly embarrassed by the stares of those nearby. "I--I +wanted to see you the instant you arrived, Barry. Shall we walk +along slowly behind the rest?" + +"What's happened?" he demanded suspiciously, his brow darkening. + +"Don't be impatient. Wait till they are a little ahead." + +"'Gad, it sounds ominous. I thought you came down to meet me because +you love me and were--well, glad to see me." + +"I am glad to see you. You didn't expect me to make an exhibition +of myself before all those people, did you?" + +His face brightened. "Well, THAT sounds better." His mouth went up +at the corner in its habitual curl. "I'd give all I possess if it +was dark now, so that I could grab you and squeeze the--" + +"Sh! They will hear you," she whispered, drawing away from him in +confusion. + +They held back until the throng had moved on a short distance. Then +she turned upon him with a dangerous light in her eyes. + +"And what's more," she said in a low voice, "I don't like to hear +you say such things. They sound so cheap and low--and vulgar, +Barry. I--" "Oh, you're always jumping on me for saying the things +I really feel," he broke in. "You're my girl, aren't you? Why +shouldn't I tell you how I feel? What's vulgar about my telling +you I want to hold you in my arms and kiss you? Why, I don't think +of anything else, day or night. And what do I get? You put me +off,--yes, you do!--bringing up some silly notion about--about--what +is it?--propriety! Good Lord, Viola, that's going back to the days +of the Puritans,--whoever they were. They just sat around and +held hands,--and that's about all I've been allowed to do with you. +It's not right,--it's not natural, Viola. People who are really +in love with each other just simply can't help kissing and--" + +"I guess you were right when you said you were not expecting me +down to meet the boat, Barry," she interrupted, looking straight +before her. + +"Well, didn't I tell you how happy it made me?" + +"If you had thought there was any chance of me coming down to +meet you, you wouldn't have taken so much to drink," she went on, +a little catch in her voice. + +Whereupon he protested vigorously that he had not tasted a +drop,--except one small dram the captain had given him early that +morning when he complained of a chill. + +"Why, you're drunk right now," she said miserably. "Oh, Barry, +won't you ever--" + +"Drunk? I'm as sober as the day I was born," he retorted, squaring +his shoulders. "Look at me,--look me in the eye, Viola. Oh, well, +if you WON'T look you won't, that's all. And if I'm as drunk as +you imagine I am I should think you'd be ashamed to be seen in my +company." She did not respond to this, so, with a sneering laugh, +he continued: "Suppose I have had a little too much,--who's the cause +of it? You! You drive me to it, you do. The last couple of weeks +you've been throwing up all my faults to me, tormenting me till +I'm nearly crazy with uncertainty. First you say you'll have me, +that you'll do anything I wish, and then, just as I begin to feel +that everything's all right, you up and say you're not sure whether +you care for me or not and you're going to obey your mother in +every--And, say, that reminds me. Unless I am very much mistaken, I +think I'll soon have a way to bring your mother to time. She won't--" + +He brought himself up with a jerk, realizing that his loose tongue +was running away with his wits. She was looking at him with startled, +inquiring eyes. + +"What do you mean by that, Barry Lapelle?" she asked, and he was +quick to detect the uneasiness in her manner. + +He affected a grin of derision. "I'm going to put my case in the +hands of Kenny Gwynne, the rising young barrister. With him on +our side, my dear, I guess we'll bring her to time. All he has to +do is to stand up to her and say he isn't going to put up with any +more nonsense, and she'll see the light of wisdom. If he thinks it's +all right for you to marry me, I guess that will end the matter. +He's the head of the family, isn't he?" + +This hastily conceived explanation of his luckless remark succeeded +in deceiving her. She stared at him in distress. + +"Oh, Barry, you--you surely can't be thinking of asking Kenneth to +intercede--" + +"Why not? He doesn't see any reason why we shouldn't be married, +my dear. In fact, he told me so a few days ago. He--" + +"I don't believe it," she cried. + +"You don't?" he exclaimed sharply. + +"No, I don't," she repeated. + +"Has he been talking to you about me?" he demanded, an ugly gleam +flashing into his eyes. + +"He has never said a word against you,--not one. But I don't believe +you when you say he told you that we ought to get married." She +felt her cheeks grow hot. She had turned her face away from him. + +"I'm a liar, am I?" he snarled. + +"I--I don't believe he ever said it," she said stubbornly. + +"Well,--you're right," he admitted, after a moment's hesitation. +"Not in so many words. But he did say to me that he had told you +he saw no reason why you shouldn't marry me if you wanted to. Did +he ever tell you that?" + +She remembered only too well the aggravating encounter in the +thicket path. + +"Yes, he did," she replied, lifting her head defiantly. "And," she +added, "I hated him for it. I hate him more and more every time I +think of it. He--he was perfectly abominable." + +"Well, you're--you're damned complimentary," he grated, his face +expressing the utmost bewilderment. + +She walked on for eight or ten paces before speaking again. Her +head was lowered. She knew that he was glaring at the wing of the +bonnet which shielded her whitening cheek. Suddenly she turned to +him. + +"Barry, let's sit down on that log over there for a few minutes. +There is something I've got to say to you,--and I'm sorry. You +must not be angry with me. Won't you come over there with me,--and +listen to what I have to tell you?" + +He hung back for a moment, his intuition grasping at something +vague and yet strangely definite. + +"You--you are going to tell me it's all over between us, Viola?" +he ventured, going white to the lips. He was as sober now as though +he had never touched liquor in his life. + +"Come and sit down," she said gently, even compassionately. + +He followed her in silence to the log she had indicated, a few +rods back from the roadside at the edge of the clearing. He sat +down beside her and waited for her to speak, and as she remained +speechless, evidently in distress, his lips curled in a smile +of reviving confidence. He watched the quick rise and fall of her +bosom, exulting in her difficulty. Birds were piping among the fresh +green twigs overhead. The air was redolent of the soft fragrance of +May: the smell of the soil, the subtle perfume of unborn flowers, +the tang of the journeying breeze, the spice of sap-sweating trees. +The radiance of a warm, gracious sun lay soft upon the land. + +At last she spoke, not tremulously as he had expected but with a +firmness that boded ill for his composure. + +"Barry," she began, still staring straight ahead, "I don't know +just how to begin. It is awfully hard to--to say what I feel I must +say. Perhaps I should have waited till--well, till you were home +for a little while,--before doing what I have made up my mind to +do. But I thought it right to have it over with as soon as possible." + +She paused for a moment and then resolutely faced him. He saw the +pain in her dark, troubled eyes, and the shadow of an appealing +smile on her lips. His face hardened. + +"So," she went on unflinchingly, "I came down to the landing to +meet you in case you were on the Paul Revere. I cannot marry you, +Barry. I--I don't love you as I should. I thought I did but--but--well, +that's all. I don't know what has happened to make me see things so +differently, but whatever it is I know now that I was mistaken,--oh, +so terribly mistaken. I know I am hurting you, Barry,--and you +have a right to despise me. I--I somehow hope you will,--because +I deserve it." + +He smiled indulgently. "I hope you don't think I am taking this +seriously. This isn't the first time I've heard you take on like--" + +"But I mean it this time, Barry,--I do truly and honestly," she +cried. "I know I've played hot and cold with you,--and that's +just the point. It proves that I never really cared for you in--in +that way--down in my soul, I mean. I am sure of it now. I have been +dreadfully unhappy about it,--because, Barry dear, I can't bear +to hurt you. We are not suited to each other. We think differently +about a great many things. We--" + +"Look here," he exclaimed roughly, no longer able to disguise his +anger; "you've got to stop this everlasting--" + +"Let go of my arm, Barry Lapelle!" she cried. "Don't you dare lay +your hand on me like that!" + +He loosened his grip on her arm and drew back sulkily. "Ah,--I +didn't mean to hurt you and you know it. I wouldn't hurt you for +anything in the world. I'm sorry if I was rough with--" + +"I don't blame you," she broke in, contritely. "I guess it would +serve me right if you beat me black and blue." + +"What I was going to say," he growled, controlling himself with +difficulty, "is this: if you think I'm going to take this as final, +you're very much mistaken. You'll get over this, just as you've +gotten over your peevishness before. I've spoiled you, that's the +truth of the matter. I always give in to you--" + +"I tell you I am in earnest," she cried hotly. "This is for good +and all,--and you make me furious when you talk like that. I am +doing my best to be kind and considerate, so you'd better be careful, +Barry Lapelle, not to say too much." + +He looked into her flaming eyes for a moment and then muttered +slowly, wonderingly: "By heaven, Viola, I believe you DO mean it. +You--you are actually throwing me over,--giving me the mitten?" + +"I can't help it, Barry," she insisted. "Something,--I don't know +what,--has come over me. Nothing seems to be the same as it used +to be. I only know that I cannot bear the thought of--why, Barry +dear, for the past three or four nights I've lain awake for hours +thinking of the awful consequences if we had succeeded in making +our escape that night, and had been married as we planned. How +terrible it would have been if I had found out too late that I did +not love you,--and we were tied to each other for life. For your +sake as well as my own, Barry. Can you imagine anything more horrible +than to be married to a woman who--who didn't love you?" + +"Yes," he snapped, "I can. It's worse a thousand times over not to +be married to the girl you love,--and to see her married to some +one else. That would be hell,--hell, do you understand?" + +She drew a little away from him. "But not the hell it would be for +me when I found out--too late. Won't you understand, Barry? Can't +you see how terrible it would be?" + +"Say, when did you get this idea into your head?" he demanded +harshly. "What put it there? You were loving me hard enough a +while ago,--couldn't get along without me, you claimed. Now you're +singing another tune. Look here! Is--is there some one else?" + +"You know there isn't," she cried indignantly. "Who else could +there be? Don't be foolish, Barry." + +"By God, if some one else has cut me out, I'll--I'll--" + +"There is no one else, I tell you! I don't love anybody,--I swear +it." + +He eyed her narrowly. "Has Kenny Gwynne anything to do with all +this?" + +She started. "Kenny? Why,--no,--of course not. What on earth could +he have to do with my loving or not loving you?" + +"It would be just like him to turn you against me because he +thinks I'm not fit to--Say, if I find out that he's been sticking +his nose into my affairs, I'll make it so hot for him,--brother or +no brother,--that he'll wish he'd never been born. Wait a minute! +I'll tell you what I think of him while I'm about it--and you can +run and tell him as quick as you please. He's a G-- d---- snake +in the grass, that's what he is. He's a conceited, sanctimonious, +white-livered--" + +"Stop that!" she cried, springing to her feet, white with fury, +her eyes blazing. "You are forgetting yourself, Barry Lapelle. Not +another word! How dare you speak like that about my brother?" + +He sat staring up at her in a sort of stupefaction. + +"How dare you?" she repeated furiously. + +He found his voice. "You weren't sticking up for him this time +last week," he sneered. "You were hating him like poison. Has the +old woman had a change of heart, too? Is she letting him sit in +her lap so's she can feed him with a spoon when he's hungry and--" + +"I wouldn't marry you if you were the only man in the world, Barry +Lapelle," said she, her voice low with passion. + +She whirled and walked rapidly away from him, her head in the air, +her hands clenched. Leaping to his feet, he started after her, +calling: + +"Wait a minute, Viola! Can't you see I'm almost out of my head over +what you've--Oh, well, go it! I'm not going to CRAWL after you! +But let me tell you one thing, my girl. You'll be talking out of +the other side of your mouth before you're much older. You'll be +down on your knees--" + +"Don't you follow me another step!" she cried over her shoulder. + +He was not more than two yards behind her when she uttered this +withering command. He stopped short in his tracks. + +"Well, this is a hell of a way to treat a gentleman!" he shouted, +hoarse with fury. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CONCERNING TEMPESTS AND INDIANS + + +Shortly after dark that evening, the tall, swarthy man who had +come up on the Paul Revere sauntered slowly up and down that part +of Main Street facing the Court House. Ostensibly he was inspecting +store windows along the way, but in reality he was on the lookout +for a man he had agreed to meet at a point just above the tavern,--a +casual meeting, it was to appear, and between two strangers. Barry +Lapelle came out of the tavern at the stroke of eight and walked +eastward a few paces, halting at the dark open lot between Johnson's +place and Smith's store beyond. The swarthy man approached slowly, +unconcernedly. He accosted Lapelle, inquiring: + +"Is that the tavern, Mister?" + +"Yes," replied Barry, needlessly pointing down the street. "Well?" + +"It's her," said the stranger. "I had a good look at her 'long +about five o'clock from the woods across from her house. She's a +heap sight older but I knowed her all right." + +"You are sure?" + +"Sure as my name is--" + +"Sh!" + +"Course I'm sure. She was Owen Carter's widder. He was killt by +a tree fallin' on him. Oh, I got a good memory. I can't afford to +have a bad one. I remember her as plain as if it wuz yestiday." He +pointed off in a westerly direction for the benefit of a passerby. +"Thank ye, mister. You say it's not more'n six mile out yan way?" +Lowering his voice, he went on: "A feller wouldn't be likely to +fergit a woman like her. Gosh, I used to wish--but wishin' don't +count fer much in this world." + +"Get on with it. We can't stand here talking all night." + +"Well, she's the woman that run off with Bob Gwynne. There ain't +no doubt about it. Everybody knowed it. I wuz there at the time, +workin' fer Ed Peters. He left his wife an' a little boy. His wife +was a daughter of ole Squire Blythe,--damn his heart! He had me +hoss-whipped in public fer--well, fer some triflin' thing I done. +Seems to me Mrs. Carter had a little baby girl. Maybe not. I ain't +much of a hand fer noticin' babies." + +"You are sure,--absolutely positive about all this?" whispered +Lapelle intensely. + +"You bet yer boots I am." + +"She ran off with a married man?" + +"She did. A feller by the name o' Gwynne, as I said afore,--Bob +Gwynne. An' I want to tell you, he got out o' that town jest +in time or I'd have slit his gizzard fer him. He had me arrested +fer stealin' a saddle an' bridle. He never WOULD have got away ef +I hadn't been locked up in Jim Hatcher's smokehouse with two men +settin' outside with guns fer a solid month, keepin' watch on me +day an' night. I wuz--" + +"That's all for to-night," snapped Barry impatiently. "You get out +of town at once. Mart will be waiting for you down below Granny +Neff's cabin,--this side of the tanyard,--as arranged." + +"What about that other business? Mart'll want to know when we're +to--" + +"He knows. The Paul Revere goes south day after to-morrow morning. +If the plans are changed before that time, I'll get word to him. +It may not be necessary to do anything at all. You've given me +information that may bring the old woman to her senses." + +"Them two fellers that come up on the boat to-day. Air you sure +you c'n--" + +"That's all for to-night," interrupted Barry, and strode off +up the street, leaving Jasper Suggs, sometime Simon Braley of the +loathsome Girty stock, to wend his lonely way out into a silence +as black as the depths of his own benighted soul. + +The night was sultry. Up in the marshy fastnesses of Lake Stansbury +all the frogs in the universe seemed to have congregated for a +grand festival of song. The treble of baby frogs, the diapason of +ancient frogs, the lusty alto of frogs in the prime of life, were +united in an unbroken, penetrating chant to the starless sky. The +melancholy hoot of the owl, the blithesome chirp of the cricket, +even the hideous yawp of the roaming loon, were lost in the din +and clatter of Lake Stansbury's mighty chorus. + +There was promise of storm in the lifeless air. Zachariah, resting +his elbows on the fence, confided this prognostication to an almost +invisible Hattie on the opposite side of the barrier between two +back yards. + +"Ah allus covers my haid up wid de blanket--an' de bolster--an' de +piller when hit's astormin'," said Hattie, in an awed undertone. +"An' Ah squeals lak a pig ev' time hit claps." + +"Shucks, gal!" scoffed Zachariah. "What yo' all so skeert o' +lightnin' fo'? Why, good lan' o' Goshen, Ah hain't no mo' askeert +o' storms dan Ah is ob--ob YOU!" He chuckled rather timorously +after blurting out this inspired and (to him) audacious remark. To +his relief and astonishment, Hattie was not offended. + +"Ah bet yo' all hain't see no setch thunderstorms as we has 'round +dis yere neck o' de woods," said she, with conviction. "Ah bet yo' +be skeert ef you--" + +"Don' yo' talk to me, gal," boasted Zachariah. "Wuzzin Ah in de +wustest storm dis yere valley has seed sence dat ole Noah he climb up +in dat ole ark an' sez, 'Lan' sakes, Ah wonder ef Ah done gone an' +fergit anyt'ing.' Yes, MA'AM,--dat evenin' out to Marse Striker's--dat +wuz a storm, gal. Wuz Ah skeert? No, SUH! Ah stup right out in +de middle of it, lightnin' strikin' all 'round an' de thunder so +turrible Marse Kenneth an' ever'body ailse wuz awonderin' ef de +good Lord could hear 'em prayin' fo' mercy. Yas, suh--yas, SUH! +Dat's de gospel trufe. An' me right out dere in dat ole barnyard +doin' de chores fo' ole Mis' Striker. Marse Kenneth he stick his +haid out'n de winder an' yell, 'Zachariah, yo' come right in heah +dis minnit! Yo' heah me? Wha' yo' all doin' out dere in dat hell-fire +an' brimstone? Ah knows yo' is de bravest nigger in all dis world, +but fo' mah sake, Zachariah, won't yo' PLEASE come in?' Well, suh, +jes' den Ah happens to look up from what Ah wuz doin' an' sees a +streak o' lightnin' comin' straight to'ards de cabin. So Ah yells +fo' him to pull his haid in mighty quick, an' shore 'nuff he got +it in jes' in de nick o' time. Dat streak o' lightnin' went right +pass de winder an' hit de groun'. Den hit sort o' bounce up in de +air an' lep right over mah haid an' hitten a tree--" + +"Wuz hit rainin' all dis time?" + +"Rainin'? Mah lan', gal, course hit wuz rainin'," replied Zachariah, +somewhat testily. "Hitten a tree not more'n ten foot from where Ah +wuz--" + +"Hain't yo' all got no sense at all, nigger?" demanded Hattie, +witheringly. "Don' yo' know 'nough to go in out'n de rain?" + +Zachariah was flabbergasted. Here was a bolt from a supposedly clear +and tranquil sky; it flattened him out as no stroke of lightning +could ever have done. For once in his life he was rendered speechless. + +Hattie, who had got religion on several unforgettable occasions and +was at this very time on the point of returning to the spiritual +fold which she had more or less secretly abandoned at the behest of +the flesh, regarded this as an excellent opportunity to re-establish +herself as a disciple of salvation. + +"An' what's more, nigger," she went on severely, "ef de good Lord +ever cotch setch a monst'ous liar as yo' is out in a hurricane lak +what yo' all sez it wuz, dere wouldn't be no use buryin' what wuz +lef' of yo'. 'Cause why, 'cause yo' jes' gwine to be a lil black +cinder no bigger'n a chinkapin. I knows all about how brave yo' +wuz out to Marse Striker's. Miss Violy she done tell how yo' all +snuck under de table an' prayed an' carried on somefin' scan'lous." + +Zachariah, though crushed, made a noble effort to extricate himself +from the ruins. "Ah lak to know what Miss Violy knows about me on +dat yere occasion. Yas, suh,--dat's what Ah lak to know. She never +lay eyes on me dat night. 'Ca'se why? 'Ca'se I wuz out in de barnlot +all de time. She done got me contwisted wid dat other fool nigger, +dat's what she done." + +"What other fool nigger?" + +"Didden she tell yo' all about dat nigger we fotch along up from +Craffordsville to--" + +"Yas, suh, she done tole all about dat Craffordsville nigger, ef +dat's de one yo' means." + +Zachariah was staggered. "She--she tole yo' about--about dat +Craffordsville nigger?" + +"Yas, suh,--she did. Miss Violy she say he wuz de han'somest boy +she ever did see,--great big strappin' boy wid de grandest eyes +an'--" + +"Dat's enough,--dat'll do," exclaimed Zachariah in considerable +heat. "Marse Kenneth he got to change his tune, dat's all I got +to say. He say Ah am de biggest liar in dis yere land,--but, by +golly, he ain' ever heared about dis yere gal Hattie. No, SUH! When +Ah lies, Ah lies about SOMEFIN', but when yo' lies, yo' jes' lies +about NUFFIN',--'ca'se why? 'Ca'se dat Craffordsville nigger he +ain' nuffin'. Yo' ought to be 'shamed o' yo'self, nigger, makin' +out Miss Violy to be a liar lak dat,--an' her bein' de fines' lady +in--" + +"Go on 'way wid yo', nigger," retorted Hattie airily. "Don' yo' +come aroun' heah no mo' makin' out how brave yo' is,--'ca'se Ah +knows a brave nigger when Ah sees one, lemme tell yo' dat, Mistah +Zachariah Whatever-yo'-name is." + +Silence followed this Parthian shot. Zachariah, being a true +philosopher, rested his case without further argument. He appeared +to have given himself up to reflection. Presently Hattie, tempering +her voice with honey, remarked: + +"Ah suttinly is mighty glad yo' is come up yere to live, Zachariah." + +"Look here, gal,--don' yo' go countin' on me too much," said he, +suspiciously. "Ah got all Ah c'n do 'tendin' to mah own wo'k 'thout +comin' over yander an' hulpin' yo'--" + +"Lan's sakes, man, 'tain't mah look-out ef yo' come over yere an' +tote mah clo'se-basket an' ev'thing 'round fo' me,--no, suh! Ah +ain' nev' ast yo', has Ah? All Ah does is to hole Cato so he won't +chaw yo' laig off when yo' come botherin' me to please 'low yo' +to hulp me,--das all Ah do. An' lemme tell yo', nigger, dat ain' +no easy job. 'Ca'se ef dere's one t'ing Cato do enjoy hit's dark +meat,--yas, suh, hit's come so he won't even look at light meat no +mo', he so sick o' feedin' off'n dese yere white shin-bones." + +"Well, den, why is yo' glad Ah come up yere to live?" demanded +Zachariah defensively. + +"'Ca'se o' dis yere ole Black Hawk." + +"Ah don' know nuffin' 'bout no ole Black Hawk." + +"Yo' all gwine to know 'bout him mighty quick," said she solemnly. +"He's on de rampage. Scalpin' an' burnin' white folks at de stake +an' des wallerin' in blood. Yas, suh,--Ah suttinly ain't gwine feel +so skeert o' dat ole Black Hawk 'long as yo' is livin' right nex' +do', Zachariah." + +"Wha' yo' all talkin' about?" + +"Marse Joe,--he de sheriff dis yere county,--he done tole ole +Mis' Gwyn dis evenin' all de news 'bout dat ole Black Hawk. Yas, +suh,--ole Black Hawk he on de warpath. All de Injuns in dis yere--" + +"Injuns?" gulped Zachariah. + +"Dey all got dere warpaint on an' dere tommyhawks--" + +"How come Marse Kenneth he don' know nuffin' 'bout all dis?" demanded +Zachariah, taking a step or two backward and glancing anxiously +over one shoulder, then the other. "He a lawyer. How come he don' +know nuffin' 'bout--Say, how close dat ole sheriff say dem Injuns +is?" + +"Dat's what I can't make out, Zachariah. He talk so kind o' low +an' me lettin' de dishpan drop right in de middle--" + +"Ah guess Ah better go right straight in de house an' tell Marse +Kenneth 'bout dis," hastily announced Zachariah. Then he bethought +himself to add: "'Ca'se me an' him got a lot to do ef dese here +Injuns come 'roun' us lookin' fo' trouble, Yas, suh! Ah got to git +de guns an' pistols an' huntin' knives all ready fo'--" + +The words froze on his lips. A low, blood-curdling moan that seemed +to end in a gasp,--or even a death-rattle,--fell upon the ears +of the two negroes. It was close at hand,--not more than twenty +feet away. This was succeeded, after a few seconds of intense +stillness--(notwithstanding the uproarious frogs!)--by a hair-raising +screech from Hattie. An instant later she was scuttling for her +own kitchen door, emitting inarticulate cries of terror. + +As for Zachariah? His course was a true one so far as direction +was concerned. Blind instinct located the back door for him and +he made a bee-line toward it regardless of all that lay between. +First he encountered a tree-stump. This he succeeded in passing +without the slightest deviation from the chosen route. Scrambling +frantically to his feet after landing with a mighty grunt some +two yards beyond the obstacle, he dashed onward, tearing his way +through a patch of gooseberry bushes, coming almost immediately +into contact with the wood-pile. Here he was momentarily retarded +in his flight. There was a great scattering of stove-wood and chips, +accompanied by suppressed howls, and then he was on his feet again. +Almost simultaneously the heavy oak door received and withstood +the impact of his flying body; a desperate clawing at the latch, +the spasmodic squeak of rusty hinges, a resounding slam, the jar +of a bolt being shot into place,--and Zachariah vociferously at +prayer in a sanctuary behind the kitchen stove. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +REVELATIONS + + +That sepulchral groan had issued not from a mortal in the agony of +impending death but from the smiling red lips of Viola Gwyn. The +grewsome "death-rattle" was the result of the means she took to +suppress a shriek of laughter by frantically clapping both hands +to her convulsed mouth. + +For some time she had been standing at the fence, her elbows on +the top rail, gazing pensively at the light in Kenny's window. A +clump of honeysuckle bushes was between her and the unsuspecting +servants. At first she had paid little or no attention to the +gabble of the darkies, her thoughts being centred on her own serious +affairs. She had been considerably shaken and distressed by the +unpleasant experience of the early afternoon. Somehow she longed to +take her troubles to Kenneth, to rid herself of them in the comfort +of his approbation, to be reassured by his brotherly counsel. She +knew he was sitting beside the table in the cosy sitting-room, +poring over one of his incomprehensible law books. How jolly, how +consoling to her own agitated mind, if she could only be there in +the same room with him, quiet as a mouse so as not to disturb his +profound studies, and reposing in that comfortable new rocker on +the opposite side of the table where she could watch the studious +frown on his brow while she waited patiently for him to lay aside +the book. + +Indeed, she had come out of the house animated by a sudden impulse +to pay him a brief, surreptitious visit; then to run back home +before she was missed by her mother. This impulse was attended by +a singularly delightful sensation of guilt. She had never been over +to see him at night. In fact, it had never occurred to her to do +such a thing before. But even as she started forth from the house, +a strange timidity assailed her. It halted her impetuous footsteps, +turned them irresolutely aside, and led her not to the gate but to +the barrier fence. She could not explain, even to herself, the queer, +half-frightened thumping of her heart, nor the amazing shyness, +nor the ridiculous feeling that it would be improper for her to be +alone with him at night. + +But why, she argued,--why should it be improper? What could be +wrong in going to see her own brother? What difference did it make +whether it was night or day? Still the doubt persisted,--a nagging +yet agreeable doubt that made her all the more eager to defy +its feeble authority. First she sought to justify her inclination +by reminding herself that her mother had never by word or look +signified the slightest opposition to her intimacy with Kenneth. +This attitude of resignation on her mother's part, however, was a +constant thorn in her side, a prick to her conscience. It caused +her many a pang. + +Then she called to mind certain of her girl friends who had +brothers,--one in particular who declared that she had slept in the +same bed with her brother up to the time she was fourteen years old. +She felt herself turn scarlet. That was really quite dreadful, even +though the cabin in which her friend dwelt was very tiny and there +were six children in the family. She had bitterly envied certain +others, those who told of the jolly good times they had had with +their brothers, the fun they had in quarrelling and the way they +teased the boys when they first began "going out" with the girls. + +What fun to have had a brother when she was little,--a brother to +play with! Kenny was so unreal. He was not like a brother at all. +He was no different from other men,--she did not believe she could +ever get used to thinking of him as a brother,--even a half-brother. +This very thought was in her mind,--perhaps it was an ever-present +thought,--as she stood gazing shyly at his window. + +She wanted to tell him about her break with Barry. Somehow,--although +she was not quite conscious of it,--she longed to have him pat her +on the shoulder, or clasp her hands in his, and tell her she had +done the right thing and he was glad. The corners of her mouth were +drooping a little. + +But the pensive droop slowly disappeared as she harkened to the +valiant words of Zachariah. It was not until Kenny's servant lifted +his voice in praise of his own deeds at Phineas Striker's that +she became acutely aware of the close proximity of the speakers. +Gradually she surrendered to the spirits of mirth and mischief. +The result of her awesome moan,--even though it narrowly escaped +ending in a shriek of laughter,--has already been revealed. The +manner of Zachariah's flight sobered her instantly. Too late she +regretted the experiment. + +"Oh, goodness!" she murmured, blanching. "The poor fellow has hurt +himself--" + +The slamming of the door behind Zachariah was reassuring. At any +rate he was alive and far too sprightly to have suffered a broken +leg or a cracked skull. A few seconds later she saw Kenny's shadow +flit hurriedly past the window as he dashed toward the kitchen. +For some time she stood perfectly still, listening to the confused +jumble of voices in the house across the way, debating whether she +should hurry over to explain,--and perhaps to assist in dressing +poor Zachariah's cuts and bruises. Suddenly she decided; and, without +thought of her garments, she scrambled hastily over the fence. Just +as her feet touched the ground, the front door of Kenneth's house +flew open and a figure, briefly revealed by the light from within, +rushed out into the yard and was swallowed up by the darkness. She +whirled and started to climb back over into her own yard, giggling +hysterically. She heard the rush of feet through the weeds and +shrubbery. They halted abruptly, and then: + +"Stop where you are, damn you! I've got you covered and, so help +me God, I'll put a bullet through--" + +"Kenny! Kenny!" she cried out. "It's I--Viola!" + +There was a moment's silence. + +"My God! You? Viola?" came in suppressed, horrified tones from the +darkness. "Drop down,--drop to the ground! They may begin firing +at me. You--" + +"Firing at you?" she cried, shakily. "What on earth are you talking +about? There's--there's no one here. I am all alone. I did it. I'm +the ghost. It was all in fun. I didn't dream--" + +"Do as I tell you!" he called out sharply. "There is a pack of +ruffians--" + +"Pack your granny!" she cried, with a shrill laugh. "I tell you I +am all alone. My goodness, what on earth did Zachariah think was +after him? A regiment of soldiers?" + +As he came quickly toward her she shrank back, seized by a strange, +inexplicable panic. He loomed above her in the darkness as she +half-crouched against the fence. For a few seconds he stood looking +down at her, breathing sharply. She heard something drop at his +feet, and then both his hands gripped her shoulders, drawing her +roughly up to him. + +"Oh-h! Wh-what are you doing?" she gasped as his arm went around +her. That arm of steel drew her so close and held her so tightly +to his breast that she could feel the tremendous thumping of his +heart. She felt herself trembling--trembling all over; the light +in the window up beyond seemed to draw nearer, swelling to vast +proportions as it bore down upon her. She closed her eyes. What +was happening to her,--what was causing this strange languor, this +queer sensation as of falling? + +As abruptly as he had clasped her to him, he released her, +springing back with a muttered execration. She tottered dizzily, +and involuntarily reached out to clutch his arm for support. He +shook her hand off. + +"What is the matter, Kenny?" she murmured, hazily. + +He did not answer. He leaned heavily against the fence, his head +on his arm. She did not move for many seconds. Then he heard her +gasp,--a gasp of actual terror. + +"Who are you?" she whispered tensely. "You are not my brother. You +are not the real Kenneth Gwynne! Who are you?" She waited for the +answer that did not come. Then as she drew farther away from him: +"You are an impostor. You have deceived us. You have come here +representing yourself to be--to be my brother,--and you are not--you +are not! I know it--oh, I know it now. You are--" + +This aroused him. "What is that you are saying?" he cried out, +fighting to pull his disordered wits together. "Not your brother? +Impostor? What are you saying, Viola?" + +"I want the truth," she cried. "Are you what you claim to be?" + +"Of course I am," he answered, stridently. "I am Kenneth Gwynne. +Your brother. Have you lost your senses?" + +"Then, why--" she began huskily. "Why did you--Oh, Kenny, I don't +know what I am saying," she murmured piteously. "I--I don't know +what has come over me. Something--something--Oh, I don't know what +made me feel--I mean, what made me say that to you. You are Kenneth +Gwynne. You are my half-brother. You are not--" "There, there!" +he interrupted, his voice shaking a little. "You were frightened. +I came so near to shooting--Yes, that is it. And I was so happy, +so relieved that I--I almost ate you alive,--my little sister. +God, what a horrible thing it would have been if I had--fired +and the bullet had--" + +She interrupted him, speaking rapidly, breathlessly in her effort +to regain command of herself. "But you didn't--you didn't, you +see,--so what is the use of worrying about it now?" She laughed +jerkily. "But, my goodness, it is a good lesson for me! I'll never +try to scare anybody else again as I did poor Zachariah." + +He stooped and, feeling among the weeds, recovered not one but both +of the long duelling pistols. + +"I was after bigger game than you," he muttered. "Here are my +pistols,--all primed and ready for business." + +She stretched out her hand and touched one of the weapons. "Ready +for what business?" she inquired. "What did you mean by a pack of +ruffians?" As he did not answer at once, she went on to explain +what had actually occurred, ending with, "I suppose Zachariah ran +in and told you that old Black Hawk and his warriors were attacking +the town." + +"I couldn't get much out of him, he was so excited. But I was +mortally afraid they had stolen a march on us, and you were already +in their hands. You see, Isaac Stain was to have kept me informed +and we were to have laid a trap for them. Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed +in sudden consternation. "I am letting the cat out of the bag." + +"Will you please tell me what you are talking about, Kenneth Gwynne?" +she said impatiently. + +He came to a quick decision. "Yes, I will tell you everything. +I guess I was a fool not to have told you before,--you and your +mother. There is a plot afoot, Viola, to abduct you. Stain got wind +of it, through--well, he got wind of it. He came to me with the +story. I don't suppose you will believe me,--and you will probably +despise me for what I am about to say,--but the man you love and +expect to marry is behind the scheme. I mean Barry Lapelle. He--" + +"When did you hear of this?" she interrupted quickly. "After the +Revere came in?" + +"More than a week ago. He came home on the Revere to-day. His plan +is to--" + +"I know. I saw him. We quarrelled. It is all over between us, Kenny. +He was furious. I thought he may have--but you say you knew of +this a week ago? I don't--I can't understand it. A week ago there +was no heed of--of carrying me off against my will." + +"It is all over between you?" he cried, and he could not disguise +the joy in his voice. "You have ended it, Viola?" + +"Yes,--it is all over," she said stiffly. "I am not going to +marry him. I was coming over to tell you. But--go on. What is this +cock-and-bull story about abducting me? Goodness, I am beginning +to feel like a girl in a story-book." + +"It is no laughing matter," he said, a little gruffly. "Does it +look like it when I come rushing out here with two loaded pistols +and come near to shooting you? Come up to the house. We will talk +it all over, and then,--" he hesitated for a moment,--"then I'll +go over and see your mother." + +He took her arm and led her up to the house. As they entered the +front door, Zachariah's groans fell upon their ears. She looked at +Kenny in alarm, and for the first time realized that he was without +coat or waistcoat. His hair was tousled in evidence of his studious +application to the open law books that lay on the floor. + +"He must be quite badly hurt," she cried miserably. "Oh, I'm SO +sorry." + +Kenny went to the kitchen door. "Zachariah! Stop that groaning. +You're not hurt. Here! What are you doing with that rifle?" + +"Ah was jes' co-comin' out, Marse Kenny, fo' to he'p yo' kill--yas, +suh! Ah was--" The remainder was lost as Kenneth deliberately +closed the door behind him and walked over to the negro, who was +squatting in a corner with a rifle in his hands. Viola, left alone, +crossed to the window and looked out. She was pale and anxious. Her +wide, alarmed eyes tried to pierce the darkness outside. Suddenly +she started back, pressing her hands to her cheeks. + +"Oh, my soul!" she murmured. "They could have shot him dead. +He could not have seen them." She felt herself turn faint. Then a +thrill of exaltation swept over her and she turned quickly toward +the kitchen door, her eyes glowing. "And he was not afraid! He ran +out to face them alone. He thought they were out there,--he risked +being shot to save me from--" + +The door opened and Kenneth came swiftly into the room. He stopped +short, staring at her radiant face. + +"Oh, Kenny, you--you really believed they were out there,--a crowd +of them,--trying to carry me off? Why,--why, that was the bravest +thing a man--" + +"Shucks!" he scoffed. "My tragedy turns out to be the most uproarious +farce. I've never seen a funnier one in the theatre. But there is a +serious side to it, Viola. Sit down for a minute or two, and I'll +tell you. Zachariah is all right. Barked his shins a little, that's +all." + +At the conclusion of his short, unembellished recital, he said: + +"There is nothing for you to be worried about. They cannot carry +out the plot. We are all forewarned now. I should have told you +all this before, but I was afraid you would think I was trying to +blacken Lapelle. I wanted to catch him red-handed, as the saying +is. Isaac Stain is coming in to sleep here to-morrow night, and +Zachariah, for all his fear of ghosts and lightning, is not afraid of +men. We will be ready for them if they come,--so don't you worry." + +There was a puzzled frown in her eyes. "I don't see why he should +have planned this a week ago, Kenny. I had told him I would marry +him. There must be something back of all this." + +"Do you know anything about a friend of his who is going to be +married soon? He spoke to me about it the other day, and asked if +a parent could legally deprive a daughter of a share in +her deceased father's--" + +"Why,--that's me, Kenny," she cried excitedly. "I told him that +mother would disinherit me entirely if I married him without her +consent." + +A light broke over him. "By jingo!" he cried. "I am beginning to +see. Why, it's as plain as day to me now. The beastly scoundrel!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Could your mother very well carry out her threat if he made off +with you by force and compelled you to marry him, whether or no?" + +She stiffened. "I would never,--never consent, Kenny. I would die +first." + +"I suppose you imagine there could be no worse fate than that?" he +said, pity in his eyes. + +She looked puzzled for a moment and then grasped his meaning. Her +face blanched. + +"I said I would die first," she repeated in a low, steady voice. + +"Well," he cried, starting up briskly from his chair, "I guess +we'd better hurry if we want to catch your mother before she goes +to bed. And that reminds me, Viola,--I would like to speak with +her alone. You see," he went on lamely, "you see, we're not friends +and I don't know how she will receive me." + +She nodded her head without speaking and together they left the +house. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +RACHEL DELIVERS A MESSAGE + + +Rachel was standing on her porch as they came up the walk. The light +through the open door at her back revealed her tall, motionless +figure but not her face which was in shadow. + +"Kenneth wants to talk to you about something very important," said +Viola unevenly, as they drew near. + +The woman on the porch did not speak until they paused at the bottom +of the steps. + +"Have you been over at his house, Viola?" she asked levelly. + +"Yes, mother." + +After a moment's hesitation: "Come in, Kenneth." She stood aside to +let Viola pass. Kenneth, who had hastily donned his coat, followed +the two women into the house. There was a light in the parlor. +"Will you sit down, or do you prefer to remain standing in my house, +Kenneth Gwynne?" + +He bowed stiffly, indicating a chair with a gesture. "Will you be +seated first, madam?" + +His sophomoric dignity drew a faint, ironic smile to her lips. "Thank +you," she said calmly, and seated herself on the little horsehair +sofa. If there was any uneasiness in the look she sent from one +to the other of the young people it was not noticeable. "Hattie +came in a little while ago," she said, "scared out of her wits. I +suspected that you were up to one of your pranks, Viola. I do wish +you would stop frightening the girl." + +"Kenneth will tell you what happened," said the girl, hurriedly. +"He wants to see you alone. I am going upstairs." + +She left the room, closing the door behind her. Neither spoke until +they heard her footsteps on the floor overhead. + +"Well, what have you been telling her?" asked Rachel, leaning +forward, her eyes narrowing. + +He drew a chair up close to the sofa and sat down. "Nothing that +she should not know," he answered. "I will first tell you what +happened a little while ago, and then--the rest of it. There is +evil afoot. I have been wrong, I realize, in not warning you and +Viola." + +She listened intently to the end; not once did she interrupt him, +but as he proceeded to unfold the meagre details of the plot as +presented to him by Isaac Stain, her brow darkened and her fingers +began to work nervously, restlessly in her lap. His account of +the frightening of Zachariah and its immediate results took up but +little time. He was careful to avoid any mention of that stirring +scene at the fence, its effect upon the startled girl, or how near +he was to betraying the great secret. + +Rachel Gwyn's eyes never left his face during the whole of the +unbroken recital. Toward the end he had the disconcerting impression +that she was reading his turbulent thoughts, that she was successfully +searching his soul. + +"That's the story as it came to me," he concluded. "I deserve your +condemnation for not preparing Viola against a trick that might +have resulted disastrously while we were marking time." + +"Why did Isaac Stain go to you instead of coming to me?" was her +first question. + +"Because he believes I am her brother, and this happens to be a +man's job," he said, lowering his voice. "It is only fair, however, +to state that he wanted to come to you and I, in my folly, advised +him not to do so." + +She was silent for a moment. Then: "And why did you think it not +advisable to tell me?" + +"I will be frank with you," he replied, colouring under her steady +gaze. "I wanted her to find out for herself just what kind of man +Lapelle really is. I was prepared to let the plot go almost to the +point of consummation. I--I wanted to be the one to save her." He +lowered his eyes, afraid that she would discover the truth in them. + +Again she hesitated, apparently weighing her words. + +"You are in love with her, Kenneth." + +He looked up, startled, almost aghast. Involuntarily he started to +rise to his feet, his eyes still fixed on hers, vehement denial on +his parted lips, only to sink back into the chair again, convicted. +There was no use attempting to deceive this cold, clear-headed woman. +She knew. No lie, no evasion could meet that direct statement. For +a long time they looked straight into each other's eyes, and at +length his fell in mute confession. + +"God help me,--I am," he groaned. + +"Oh, the pity of it!" she cried out. He looked up and saw that she +was trembling, her ashen face working as in pain. + +"No! The curse of it, Rachel Carter!" + +She appeared not to have heard his words. "'God works in a mysterious +way,'" she muttered, almost inaudibly. "The call of the blood is +unfailing. The brain may be deceived, the heart never." With an +effort, she regained control of herself. "She has broken off with +Barry Lapelle. Do you know the reason why? Because, all unbeknownst +to her, she has fallen in love with you. Yes! It is true. I know. +I have seen it coming." + +She arose and crossed to the door, which she cautiously opened. +For a moment she remained there listening, then closing it gently, +she came over and stood before him. + +"Love is a wonderful thing, Kenneth," she said slowly. "It is the +most powerful force in all the world. It overcomes reason, it crushes +the conscience, it makes strong men weak and weak men strong. For +love a woman will give her honour, for love a man will barter his +chance for eternal salvation. It overlooks faults, it condones +crime, it rises above every obstacle that the human mind can put +before it. It knows no fear, it has no religion, it serves no God. +You love my girl, Kenneth. She is the daughter of the woman you +despise, the daughter of one you call evil. Is your love for her +great enough,--or will it ever be great enough,--to overcome these +obstacles? In plain words, would you take her unto yourself as +your wife, to love and cherish and honour,--mind you, HONOUR,--to +the end of your days on earth?" + +He stood up, facing her, his face white. + +"She has done nothing dishonourable," he said levelly. + +"'The sins of the mother,'" she paraphrased, without taking her +eyes from his. + +"Was her mother any worse than my father? Has the sin been visited +upon one of us and not upon the other?" + +"Then, you WOULD be willing to take Viola as your wife?" + +He seemed to wrench his gaze away. "Oh, what is the use of talking +about the impossible?" he exclaimed. "I have confessed that I love +her,--yes, in spite of everything,--and you--" + +"You have not answered my question." + +"No, I have not," he said deliberately,--"and I do not intend to +answer it. You know as well as I that I cannot ask her to marry +me, so why speak of it? Good God, could I ask my own sister to be +my wife?" + +"She is not your sister. She has not one drop of Gwynne blood in +her veins." + +He gave a short, bitter laugh. "But who is going to tell her that, +may I ask, Rachel Carter?" + +She turned away, took two or three turns up and down the room, her +head bent, a heavy frown between her eyes, and then sank wearily +into a chair. + +"I will put it this way, Kenneth," she said. "Would you ask her to +be your wife if the time should ever come when she knows the truth?" + +He hesitated a long time. "Will you be kind enough to tell me what +your object is in asking me these questions?" + +"I want to know whether you are truly in love with her," she replied +steadily. + +"And if I say that I could not ask her to marry me, would that +prove anything to you?" + +"Yes. It would prove two things. It would prove that you do not +love her with all your heart and soul, and it would prove that you +are the same kind of man that your father was before you." + +He started. It was the second reason that caused him to look at +her curiously. "What do you mean?" + +"When you have answered my question, I will answer yours, Kenneth." + +"Well," he began, setting his jaw, "I DO love her enough to ask +her to be my wife. But I would ask her as Owen Carter's daughter. +And," he added, half closing his eyes as with pain, "she would +refuse to have me. She could not look at the matter as I do. Her +love,--if she should ever come to have such a feeling for me,--her +love would revolt against--Oh, you know what I mean! Do you suppose +it would survive the shock of realization? No! She has a clean +heart. She would never marry the son of the man who--who--" He found +himself unable to finish the sentence. A strange, sudden reluctance +to hurt his enemy checked the words even as they were being framed +on his lips,--reluctance due not to compassion nor to consideration +but to a certain innate respect for an adversary whose back is to +the wall and yet faces unequal odds without a sign of shrinking. + +"Shall I say it for you?" she asked in a cold, level voice. But +she had winced, despite her iron control. + +"It is not necessary," said he, embarrassed. + +"In any case," she said, with a sigh, "you have answered my question. +If you could do this for my girl I am sure of your love for her. +There could be no greater test. I shall take a little more time +before answering your question. There are one or two more things +I must say to you before I come to that,--and then, if you like, +we will take up this story of Isaac Stain's. Kenneth, the time +may come,--I feel that it is sure to come, when--" She stopped. A +sound from above caught her ear,--a regular, rhythmic thumping on +the floor. After a few seconds she remarked: + +"It is all right. That is a rocking-chair. She is getting impatient." +Nevertheless she lowered her voice and leaned forward in her chair. +"The time is sure to come when Viola will learn the truth about +herself and me,--and you, as well. I feel it in my bones. It may +not come till after I am dead. But no matter when it comes, I want +to feel sure now,--to-night, Kenneth,--that you will never undertake +to deprive her of the lands and money I shall leave to her." + +He stared at her in astonishment. "What is this you are saying?" +She slowly repeated the words. "Why, how could I dispossess her? +It is yours to bequeath as you see fit, madam. Do you think I am +a mercenary scoundrel,--that I would try to take it away from her? +I know she is not my father's daughter, but--why, good heaven, I +would never dream of fighting for what you--" + +"Your love for her,--though unrequited,--aye, even though she became +embittered toward you because of what happened years ago,--you +love her enough to stand aside and allow her to hold what I shall +leave to her?" + +"You are talking in riddles. What on earth are you driving at?" "You +will not fight her right, her claim to my estate?" she insisted, +leaning still closer. + +"Why, of course not!" he exclaimed, angrily. + +"Even though the law might say she is not entitled to it?" + +"The law can take no action unless I invoke its aid," said he. "And +that is something I shall never do," he added, with finality. + +"I wish I could be sure of that," she murmured, wistfully. + +He came to his feet. "You may be sure of it," he said, with dignity. +"Possess your soul in peace, if that is all that is troubling it." + +"Sit down," she said, a strange huskiness in her voice. He obeyed +her. "Your father left a certain part of his fortune to me. There +was no provision made for Viola. You understand that, don't you?" + +"Yes. I know all about that," said he, plainly bewildered. "On the +other hand, he did not impose any restrictions upon you. You are +at liberty to dispose of your share by will, as you see fit, madam. +I am not likely to deny my step-sister what is rightfully hers. +And that reminds me. She is not my blood relation, it's true. But +she is my step-sister. That settles another point. I could not ask +my step-sister to be my wife. The law would--" + +"Now we have come to the point where I shall answer the question +you asked a while ago," she interrupted, straightening up in her +chair and regarding him with a fixed, steady light in her eyes that +somehow seemed to forewarn him of what was about to be revealed. +"I said it would prove two things to me. One of them was that you +are the same kind of man that your father was before you. I mean if +you had said you could not ask Viola to be your wife." She paused, +and then went on slowly, deliberately. "I lived with your father +for nearly twenty years. In all that time he never asked me to be +his wife." + +At first he stared blankly at her, uncomprehending. + +Then a slow, dark flush spread over his face. He half-started up +from his chair. + +"You--you mean--" he stammered. + +"He never asked me to be his wife," she repeated without emotion. + +He sank back, incredulous, dumbfounded. "My God! Am I to understand +that you--that you were never married to my father?" + +"Yes. I waited twenty years for him to ask me to marry him,--but +he never did." + +He was still somewhat stupefied. The disclosure was so unexpected, +so utterly at odds with all his understanding that he could not +wholly grasp its significance. Somewhat footlessly he burst out: + +"But surely you must have demanded--I mean, did you never ask him +to--to marry you?" + +Her eyebrows went up slightly. + +"How could I?" she inquired, as if surprised by the question. "I +had not sunk so low in my own estimation as that, Kenneth Gwynne. +My bed was made the day I went away with him. Some day you may +realize that even such as I may possess the thing called pride. +No! I would have died rather than ask him to marry me. I chose my +course with my eyes open. It was not for me to demand more than I +gave. He was not a free man when I went to him. He made no promises, +nor did I exact any." + +She spoke in the most matter-of-fact way. He regarded her in sheer +wonder. + +"But he SHOULD have made you his wife," he exclaimed, his sense of +fairness rising above the bitter antipathy he felt toward her. + +"That was for him to decide," said she, calmly. "I respected his +feelings in the matter,--and still do. He had no right to marry me +when we went away together. He did not take me as a wife, Kenneth +Gwynne. He took me as a woman. He had a wife. Up to the day he +died he looked upon her as his wife. I was his woman. I could never +take her place. Not even after she had been in her grave for twenty +years. He never forgot her. I see the scorn in your eyes. He does +not quite deserve it, Kenneth. After all is said and done, he was +fair to me. Not one man in a thousand would have done his part so +well as he. + +"I don't suppose you know what men do with their mistresses when +they begin to feel that they are through with them and there is +no legal bond to hold them. They desert them. They cast them off. +And then they turn to some honest woman and marry her. That is the +way with men. But he was not like that. I can tell what you are +about to say. It is on your lips to say that he deserted an honest +woman. Well, so he did. And therein lies the secret of his constancy +to me,--even after he had ceased to love me and the passion that +was in him died. He would never desert another woman who trusted +him. He paid too dearly in his conscience for the first offence to +be guilty of a second. + +"You see I am laying bare my innermost soul to you. It hurts me to +say that through all these years he loved and honoured and revered +his wife,--and the memory of her. He was never unkind to me,--he +never spoke of her. But I knew, and he knew that I knew. He loved +you, his little boy. I, too, loved you once, Kenneth. When you were +a little shaver I adored you. But I came to hate you as the years +went by. It is needless to tell you the reason why. When it came +time for him to die he left you half of his fortune. The other +half,--and a little over,--he gave to me." Her voice faltered a +little as she added: "For good and faithful service, I suppose." + +During this long speech Kenneth had succeeded in collecting his +thoughts. He had been shocked by her confession, and now he was +mentally examining the possibilities that might arise from the +aspect it bared. + +First of all, Viola was not even his step-sister. He experienced a +thrill of joy over that,--notwithstanding the ugly truth that gave +her the new standing; to his simple, straightforward mind, Viola's +mother was nothing more than a prostitute. (In his thoughts he +employed another word, for he lived in a day when prostitutes were +called by another name.) Still, Viola was not to blame for that. +That could never be held against her. + +"Why have you told me all this?" he asked bluntly. "I had no means +of learning that you were never married to my father. There was +never a question about it in my mind, nor in anybody else's, so +far as I know. You have put a very dangerous weapon in my hand in +case I should choose to use it against you." + +She was silent for a long time, struggling with herself. He could +almost feel the battle that was going on within her. Somehow it +appalled him. + +The wind outside was rising. It moaned softly, plaintively through +the trees. A shutter creaked somewhere at the back of the house +and at intervals banged against the casement. The frogs down in +the hollow had ceased their clamour and no doubt took to themselves +credit for the storm that was on the way in answer to their +exhortations. The even, steady thump of the rocking-chair in the +room overhead stopped suddenly, and Viola's quick tread was heard +crossing the floor. She closed a window. Then, after a moment, the +sound of the rocking-chair again. + +Rachel left her chair and walked over to the window to peer out +into the night. + +"It is coming from the west," she said, as if to test the steadiness +of her voice. + +A far-off flicker of lightning cast a faint, phosphorescent glow +into the dimly lighted room, quivering for a second or two on the +face of the woman at the window, then dying away with what seemed +to be a weird suggestion of reluctance. + +She stood before him, looking down. "I have at last obeyed a command +imposed by Robert Gwynne when he was on his death-bed. Almost his +last words to me were in the nature of a threat. He told me that if +I failed to carry out his request,--he did not call it a command,--he +would haunt me to my dying day. You may laugh at me if you will, +but he HAS been haunting me, Kenneth Gwynne. If I ever cherished +the notion that I could ignore his command and go on living in the +security of my own secret, I must have known from the beginning +that it would be impossible. Day and night, ever since you came, +some force that was not my own has been driving at my resistance. +You will call it compunction, or conscience or an honest sense of +duty. I do not call it by any of those names. Your father commanded +me to tell you with my own lips,--not in writing or through the +mouth of an agent,--he commanded me to say to you that your mother +was the only wife he ever had. I have done this to-night. I have +humbled myself,--but it was after a long, cruel fight." + +She sat down, and it seemed to him that her very soul went out +in the deep, long sigh that caused her bosom to flatten and her +shoulders to droop forward. + +"He was either an ingrate or a coward," said he harshly, after a +short silence. + +"It is not for you to pass judgment on my master," said she, +simply. "May I beg you to refrain from putting your own judgment +of him into words? Will you not spare me that?" + +He stared at her in astonishment. He saw that she was in earnest, +desperately in earnest. Choking back the words that had rushed to +his lips, he got up from his chair and bent his head gravely. + +"Yes, if it is any comfort to you, Rachel Carter," he said, acute +pity in his eyes. "I cannot resist saying, however, that you have +not spared yourself. It cost you a great deal to pay one of the +debts he left for you to settle. I shall not forget it." + +She arose and all the humility fell away from her. Once more she +was the strong, indomitable,--even formidable,--figure he had come +to know so well. Her bosom swelled, her shoulders straightened, +and into her deep-set, sombre eyes came the unflinching light of +determination. + +"Then we are done with that," she said quietly. "I have asked no +favours save this last one for myself,--but it is a greater one than +you may think. You know everything now, Kenneth. You have called +me Rachel Carter. Was it divination or was it stubborn memory? +I wonder. So far as I know, you are the only person left in the +world who knows that I was not his wife, the only one who knows +that I am still Rachel Carter. No matter what this man Braley may +know, or what he may tell, he--But we are wasting time. Viola must +be wondering. Now as to this plan of Barry Lapelle's. I think I +can safely assure you that nothing will come of it." + +"Then, you knew about it before I told you?" he exclaimed. + +"No. You brought me word of Jasper Suggs this morning. You said he +was staying at Martin Hawk's cabin. You may have forgotten what I +said to you at the time. Now you bring me word that Barry Lapelle's +plot was hatched at Martin Hawk's. Well, this afternoon I went to +the Court House and swore out a warrant charging Martin Hawk with +stealing some of my yearling calves and sheep. That warrant is now +in the hands of the sheriff. It will be served before another day +is gone." + +"That's pretty sharp work," he said, but still a little puzzled. +"Naturally it will upset Barry's plans, but Suggs is still to be +accounted for. You mentioned something about charging him with a +murder back in--" + +"I guess that can wait till another day," said she, with a smile +that he did not quite understand. "It would be rather stupid of +me, don't you think, to have him arrested?" + +"You said he was not the kind of a man to be taken alive," he +remarked, knitting his brows. + +"I think I said something of the kind. The name of Simon Braley +is known from one end of this State to the other. It is a name to +conjure fear with. Every Indian uprising in the past ten years has +had Braley's name connected with it. It was he who led the band +of Chippewas twelve years ago when they massacred some fifteen or +eighteen women and children in a settlement on White River while their +men were off in the fields at work. Isn't it rather significant that +the renegade Simon Braley should turn up in these parts at a time +when Black Hawk is--But that is neither here nor there. My warrant +calls for the arrest of Martin Hawk. For more than two years Hawk +has been suspected of stealing livestock down on the Wea, but no +one has ever been willing to make a specific charge against him. +He is very cunning and he has always covered his tracks." + +"Do you think he will resist the sheriff? I mean, is there likely +to be fighting?" + +"It all depends on whether Martin is caught napping," she replied +in a most casual manner. "By the way, has Isaac Stain told you much +about himself?" + +Kenneth could not repress a smile. "He has mentioned one or two +affairs of the heart." + +"His sister was one of the women massacred by the Chippewas down on +White River that time. She was the young wife of a settler. Isaac +will be overjoyed when he finds out that Jasper Suggs and Simon +Braley are one and the same person." + +He was speechless for a moment, comprehension coming slowly to +him. "By all that's holy!" he exclaimed, something like awe in +his voice. "I am beginning to understand. Stain will be one of +the sheriff's party?" + +"We will stop at his cabin on the way to Hawk's," she replied. "If +he chooses to join us after I have told him who I think this man +Suggs really is, no one will object." + +"You say 'we.' Do you mean to tell me that you are going along +with the posse? Good God, woman, there will be shooting! You must +not think of--" + +She checked him with an imperious gesture. "I cannot send these men +to face a peril that I am not willing to face myself. That would be +dastardly. I will take my chances with the rest of them. You seem +to forget that I spent a good many years of my life in the wilderness. +This will not be my first experience with renegades and outlaws. +When I first came to this State, the women had to know how to +shoot. Not only to shoot birds and beasts, but men as well. Those +were hard days. I was not like the men who cut notches in their +rifle stocks for every Indian they slew, and yet there is a gun in +my room upstairs that could have two notches on it if I had cared +to put them there." + +"What time do you start?" he said, the fire of excitement in his +eyes. "I insist on being one of the--" + +"You will not be needed," she said succinctly. "I think you had +better go now. The storm will soon be upon us. Thank you for coming +here to-night, Kenneth." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +LAPELLE SHOWS HIS TEETH + + +Kenneth went to bed that night firmly resolved to accompany the sheriff +when he set out to arrest Martin Hawk. Zachariah had instructions +to call him at daybreak and to have breakfast ready on the dot. + +No doubt the posse would start about sunrise,--in any case, he +would be up and prepared to take to his saddle the instant he saw +his neighbour leaving her house. + +The thunderstorm came rollicking down the valley, crashed and +rolled and roared for half an hour or so, and then stole mumbling +away in the night, leaving in its wake a sighing wind and the drip +of forsaken raindrops. + +He was astir at cockcrow. The first faint glow of red in the greying +east found him at breakfast, with Zachariah sleepily serving him +with hot corn-cakes, lean side-meat and coffee. + +"Take plenty dis yere hot coffee, Marse Kenneth," urged Zachariah, +at the end of a prodigious yawn. "Yo' all gwine need sumpin to keep +yo' 'wake, suh, so's yo' won't fall out'n de saddle. Dis yere--" + +"Speaking of saddles, have you fed Brandy Boy?" + +"Yas, suh. Ah dunno as Ah evah see a hoss mo' took by 'stonishment +dan he wuz when Ah step brisk-like into his stall an' sez 'Doggone +yo', Brandy Boy, don't yo' know de sun's gwine to be up in less'n +two hours? Wha' fo' is yo' keepin' me an' Marse Kenneth waitin' +lak dis? Git ep dar, yo' lazy, good-fer-nuffin,--'" + +"And what did Brandy Boy say in response to that?" broke in his +master, airily. + +"How dat, suh?" + +"Did he reply in courteous terms or was he testy and out of sorts? +Now, just what DID he say?" + +Zachariah stared at the speaker in some uneasiness. "Ah reckon yo' +all better go on back to bed, suh, an' lemme call yo' when yo' is +wide awake. Ain' no sense in yo' startin' off on dis yere hossback +ride when yo' is still enjoyin' setch a good night's sleep. No, +SUH!" + +"I will take another cup of your excellent coffee, Zachariah. That +will make three, won't it?" + +Zachariah shuffled over to the stove, muttering as he lifted the +coffee pot: "Fust Ah is seein' things in de evenin' an' den Ah hears +all dis yere talk 'bout a hoss SAYIN' things in de mornin',--Yas, +suh,--yas, SUH! Comin' right along, suh. Little mo' side-meat, +suh?" + +"Take a peep out of the window and see if any one is stirring over +at Mrs. Gwyn's." + +"'Pears lak Ah c'n see a lady out in de front yard, suh," said +Zachariah, at the window. + +"You don't say so! Is it Mrs. Gwyn?" cried Kenneth, hastily gulping +his coffee as he pushed his chair back from the table. + +"Hit ain' light enough fo' to see--" + +"Run out and saddle Brandy Boy at once, and be quick about it." + +"No, suh, hit ain' Mrs. Gwyn. Hit's Miss Violy. 'Pears lak she +comin' over here, suh. Leastwise she come out'n de gate kind o' +fast-like,--gotten a shawl wrap aroun'--" + +Kenneth waited for no more. He dashed from the house and down to +the fence,--where stood Viola, pulling at the swollen, water-soaked +gate peg. She was bareheaded, her brown hair hanging down her back +in long, thick braids. It was apparent at a glance that she had +dressed hastily and but partially at that. With one hand she pinched +close about her throat the voluminous scarlet shawl of embroidered +crepe in which the upper part of her body was wrapped. + +Later he was to observe that her heavy shoes were unlaced and had +been drawn on over her bare feet. Her eyes were filled with alarm. + +"I don't know where mother is," she said, without other greeting. +"She is not in the house, Kenny. I am worried almost sick." + +He stared at her in dismay. "Oh, blast the luck! She must have--Say, +are you sure she's gone?" + +"I can't find her anywhere," cried she, in distress. "I've been +out to the barn and--Why, what ails you, Kenneth?" + +"She got away without my knowing it. But maybe it's not too late. +I can catch up with them if I hurry. Hey, Zachariah!" + +"Then, you know where she is?" cried the girl, grasping his arm +as he turned to rush away. "For goodness' sake, tell me! Where has +she gone?" + +"Why, don't you--But of course you don't!" he exclaimed. "You poor +girl! You must be almost beside yourself,--and here I go making +matters worse by--" + +"Where is she?" she broke in, all the colour going from her face +as she shook his arm impatiently. "Come in the house," he said +gently, consolingly. "I'll tell you all I know. There's nothing to +be worried about. She will be home, safe and sound, almost before +you know it. I will explain while Zachariah is saddling Brandy +Boy." He laid his hand upon her shoulder. "Come along,--dear." + +She held back. "If anything happens to her and you could have--" +she began, a threat in her dark, harassed eyes. + +"I had no idea she would start at such an unearthly hour. I had +made up my mind to go with her, whether or not. Didn't she tell +you she had made an affidavit against Martin Hawk?" + +"No. The sheriff was up here last night, just after supper, but,--Oh, +Kenny, what is it all about?" + +His arm stole about her shoulders. She leaned heavily, wearily +against him as they walked up the drenched path. + +"Have you any idea at all what time she left the house?" he asked. + +"I heard her go down the stairs. It was pitch dark, but the clock +struck one quite a long time afterward. I did not think anything +about it then, because she often gets up in the middle of the +night and goes down to sit in the kitchen. Ever since father died. +I must have gone to sleep again because I did not hear her come +back upstairs. I awoke just at daybreak and got up to see if she +needed me. She--she had not gone to bed at all, Kenny.--and I couldn't +find her anywhere. Then I thought that Martin Hawk and the others +had come and taken her away by mistake, thinking it was me in the +darkness." + +"Sit down, Viola. I'll light the fire. It's quite chilly and you +are shaking like a--" + +"I want to know where she has gone," she insisted. + +Then he told her briefly as much as he thought she ought to know. +She was vastly relieved. She even smiled. + +"There's no use of your trying to catch up with her. Thank you +for lighting the fire, Kenny. If you don't mind, I will sit here +awhile, and I may go to sleep in this comfortable chair of yours. +Goodness, I must look awful. My hair--" + +"Don't touch it! It is beautiful as it is. I wish girls would always +wear their hair in braids like that." + +She yawned, stretched her legs out to the fire, and then suddenly +realizing that her ankles were bare, drew them back again to the +shelter of her petticoat with a quick, shy glance to see if he had +observed. + +"I wish I could cut it off,--like a boy's. It is miles too long. +You might as well head Zachariah off. She has been gone since one +o'clock. I am sure I heard the front door close before I dropped +off to sleep. Don't fidget, Kenny. They've probably got old Martin +in the calaboose by this time. Mother never fails when she sets +out to do a thing. That good-for-nothing sleepy-head, Hattie, never +heard a sound last night. What a conscience she must have!" + +He frowned at his big silver watch. "It's after five. See here, +Viola, suppose you just curl up on the sofa there and get some +sleep. You look tired. I'll put a quilt over you and--" + +She half-started up from the chair, flushing in embarrassment. + +"Oh, I ought not to stay here, Kenny. Suppose somebody were to come +along and catch me here in your--" + +"Shucks! You're my sister, aren't you?" + +"I suppose it's all right," she said dubiously, sinking back into +the chair again. "But somehow, Kenny, I don't believe I will ever +be able to think of you as a brother; not if I live a thousand +years. I'm sorry to hurt your feelings, but--well, I just can't +help being a little bit afraid of you. I suppose it's silly of me, +but I'm so ashamed to have you see me with my hair down like this, +and no stockings on, and only half-dressed. I--I feel hot all over. +I didn't think of it at first, I was so worried, but now I--" + +"It is very silly of you," he said, rather thickly. "You did right +in coming over, and I'm going to make you comfortable now that +you are here. Lie down here and get some sleep, like a good little +girl, and when you wake up Zachariah will have a nice hot breakfast +for you." + +"I'd rather not lie down," she stammered. "Let me just sit here +awhile,--and don't bother about breakfast for me. Hattie will--" + +"But he has to get breakfast anyhow," he argued. + +She looked at him suspiciously. "Haven't you had your breakfast?" + +"No," he lied. Then he hurried off to give guilty instructions to +Zachariah. + +"Fo' de lan's sake," the latter blurted out as he listened to his +master's orders; "is yo' all gwine to eat another breakfast?" + +"Yes, I am," snapped Kenneth. "I'll take care of Brandy Boy. You +go in and clear the table,--and see to it that you don't make any +noise. If you do, I'll skin you alive." + +An hour later, Kenneth arose from his seat on the front doorstep +and stole over to the sitting-room window. + +She was asleep in the big rocking-chair, her head twisted limply +toward her left shoulder, presenting a three-quarters view of her +face to him as he gazed long and ardently upon her. He could see +the deep rise and fall of her bosom. The shawl, unclasped at the +throat, had fallen away, revealing the white flannel nightgown over +which she had hastily drawn a petticoat before sallying forth. + +He went to the kitchen door and found Zachariah sitting grumpily +on the step. + +"She's still sound asleep," he announced. + +"So's dat lazy Hattie over yander," lamented Zachariah, with a jerk +of his head. "Ain' no smoke comin' out'n her chimbley, lemme tell +yo'." + +"Fill that wash-pan and get me a clean towel," ordered his master. +He looked at his watch. "I'm going to awaken her,--in half an hour." + +It was nearly seven o'clock when he stamped noisily into the +sitting-room with towel and basin. He had thrice repeated his visit +to the window, and with each succeeding visit had remained a little +longer than before, notwithstanding the no uncertain sense of guilt +that accused him of spying upon the lovely sleeper. + +She awoke with a start, looked blankly about as if bewildered +by her strange surroundings, and then fixed her wide, questioning +eyes upon him, watching him in silence as he placed the basin of +spring-water on a chair and draped the coarse towel over the back. + +"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes, Miss," he announced, +bowing deeply. "If you desire to freshen yourself a bit after your +profound slumbers, you will find here some of the finest water +in the universe and a towel warranted to produce a blush upon the +cheek of a graven image." + +"Has mother come home?" she inquired anxiously, as she drew the +shawl close about her throat again. "No sign of her. Hurry along, +and as soon as we've had a bite to eat I'll ride down to the Court +House and see if she's there." + +He left her, and presently she came out into the kitchen, her skin +glowing warmly, her braids loosely coiled on the crown of her head, +her eyes like violet stars. + +Zachariah marvelled at his master's appetite. Recollection of an +already devoured meal of no small proportions caused him to doubt +his senses. From time to time he shook his head in wonder and +finally took to chuckling. The next time Marse Kenneth complained +about having no appetite he would know what to say to him. + +"I must run home now," said Viola at the close of the meal. "It's +been awfully nice,--and so exciting, Kenny. I feel as if I had been +doing something I ought not to do. Isn't it queer? Having breakfast +with a man I never saw until six weeks ago!" + +"It does my heart good to see you blush so prettily," said he warmly. +Then his face darkened. "And it turns my blood cold to think that +if you had succeeded in doing something you ought not to have done +six weeks ago, you might now be having breakfast with somebody else +instead of with me." + +"I wish you would not speak of that, Kenneth," she said severely. +"You will make me hate you if you bring it up again." Then she +added with a plaintive little smile: "The Bible says, 'Love thy +neighbour as thyself.' I am doing my best to live up to that, but +sometimes you make it awfully hard for me." + +He went to the door with her. She paused for a moment on the step +to look searchingly up the road and through the trees. There was +no sign of her mother. The anxious, worried expression deepened in +her eyes. + +"Don't come any farther with me," she said. "Go down to the Court +House as fast as you can." + +He watched her till she passed through the gate. As he was on the +point of re-entering the house he saw her come to an abrupt stop +and stare straight ahead. He shot a swift, apprehensive glance over +his shoulder. + +Barry Lapelle had just emerged from Rachel's yard, his gaze fixed +on the girl who stood motionless in front of Gwynne's gate, a hundred +feet away. Without taking his eyes from her, he slowly closed the +gate and leaned against it, folding his arms as he did so. + +Viola, after a moment's indecision and without a glance at Kenneth, +lifted her chin and went forward to the encounter. Kenneth looked +in all directions for Lapelle's rascals. He was relieved to find +that the discarded suitor apparently had ventured alone upon this +early morning mission. What did it portend? + +Filled with sharp misgivings, he left his doorstep and walked slowly +down to the gate, where he halted. It occurred to him that Barry, +after a sleepless night, had come to make peace with his tempestuous +sweetheart. If such was the case, his own sense of fairness and dignity +would permit no interference on his part unless it was solicited +by the girl herself. He was ready, however, to take instant action +if she made the slightest sign of distress or alarm. While he had +no intention of spying or eavesdropping, their voices reached him +distinctly and he could not help hearing what passed between them. + +"Have you been up to the house, Barry?" were Viola's first words +as she stopped in front of the man who barred the way. + +Lapelle did not change his position. His chin was lowered and he +was looking at her through narrowed, unsmiling eyes. + +"Yes, I have." + +"Where was the dog?" she inquired cuttingly. + +"He came and licked my hand. He's the only friend I've got up here, +I reckon." + +"I will have him shot to-day. What do you want?" + +"I came to see your mother. Where is she?" + +"She's away." + +"Over night?" + +"It will do you no good to see her, Barry. You might as well realize +it first as last." + +Lapelle glanced past her at the man beyond and lowered his voice. +Kenneth could not hear what he said. "Well, I'm going to see her, +and she will be down on her knees before I'm through with her, let +me tell you. Oh, I'm sober, Viola! I had my lesson yesterday. I'm +through with whiskey forever. So she was away all night, eh? Out to +the farm, eh? That nigger girl of yours says she must have gone +out to the farm last night, because her bed wasn't slept in. And +you weren't expecting visitors as early as this or you would have +got home a little sooner yourself, huh?" + +"What are you talking about?" + +"Soon as she is out of the house you scoot over to big brother +Kenny's, eh? Afraid to sleep alone, I suppose. Well, all I've got +to say is you ought to have taken a little more time to dress." + +"Oh! Oh,--you--you low-lived dog!" she gasped, going white to the +roots of her hair. "How dare you say--" + +"That's right! Call me all the pretty names you can think of. And +say, I didn't come up here to beg anything from you or your mother. +I'm not in a begging humour. I'm through licking your boots, Viola. +What time will the old woman be back?" + +"Stand away from that gate!" she said in a voice low and hoarse +with fury. "Don't you dare speak to me again. And if you follow me +to the house I'll--I'll--" + +"What'll you do?" he jeered. "Call brother Kenny? Well, go ahead +and call him. There he is. I'll kick him from here to the pond,--and +that won't be half so pleasant as rocking little sister to sleep +in her cradle while mamma is out for the night." + +"And I used to think I was in love with you!" she cried in sheer +disgust. "I could spit in your face, Barry Lapelle. Will you let +me pass?" + +"Certainly. But I'm going into the house with you, understand that. +I'd just as soon wait there for your mother as anywhere else." + +"When my mother hears about this she will have you horsewhipped +within an inch of your life," cried the girl furiously. + +These words, rising on a wave of anger, came distinctly to Kenneth's +ears. He left his place at the gate and walked swiftly along inside +his fence until he came to the corner of the yard, where the bushes +grew thickly. Here he stopped to await further developments. He +heard Barry say, with a harsh laugh: + +"Oh, she will, will she?" + +"Yes, she will. She knows more about you than you think she does,--and +so do I. Let me by! Do you hear me, Bar--" + +"That's funny," he interrupted, lowering his voice to a half-whisper. +"That's just what I came up to see her about. I want to tell her +that I know more about her than she thinks I do. And when I get +through telling her what I know she'll change her mind about letting +us get married. And you'll marry me, too, my girl, without so much +as a whimper. Oh, you needn't look around for big brother,--God, I +bet you'd be happy if he wasn't your brother, wouldn't you? Well, +he has sneaked into the house, just as I knew he would if it looked +like a squall. He's a white-livered coward. How do you like that?" + +He was not only astonished but distinctly confounded by the swift, +incomprehensible smile that played about her disdainful lips. + +"What the hellfire are you laughing at?" he exploded. + +"Nothing much. I was only thinking about last night." + +"Christ!" he exclaimed, the blood rushing to his face. "Why,--why, +you--" The words failed him. He could only stare at her as if +stunned by the most shocking confession. + +"Please remember that you are speaking to--" + +He broke in with a snarling laugh. "By thunder, I'm beginning to +believe you're no better than she was. She wasn't anything but a +common------, and I'm blessed if I think it's sensible to marry +into the family, after all." + +"Oh!" she gasped, closing her eyes as she shrank away from him. +The word he had used stood for the foulest thing on earth to her. +It had never passed her clean, pure lips. For the moment she was +petrified, speechless. + +"It's about time you learned the truth about that damned old +hypocrite,--if you don't know it already," he continued, raising +his voice at the urge of the now reckless fury that consumed him. +He stood over her shrinking figure, glaring mercilessly down into +her horror-struck eyes. "You don't need to take my word for it. Ask +Gwynne. He knows. He knows what happened back there in Kentucky. +He knows she ran off with his father twenty years ago, taking him +away from the woman he was married to. That's why he hates her. +That's why he never had anything to do with his dog of a father. +And, by God, he probably knows you were born out of wedlock,--that +you're a love-child, a bas--" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE BLOW + + +He never finished the word. A whirlwind was upon him. Before he +could raise a hand to defend himself, Kenneth Gwynne's brawny fist +smote him squarely between the eyes. He went down as though struck +by a sledge-hammer, crashing to the ground full six feet from where +he stood. Behind that clumsy blow was the weight of a thirteen +stone body, hurled as from a mighty catapult. + +He never knew how long afterward it was that he heard a voice +speaking to him. The words, jumbled and unintelligible, seemed to +come from a great distance. He attempted to rise, gave it up, and +fell back dizzily. His vision was slow in clearing. What he finally +saw, through blurred, uncertain eyes, was the face of Kenneth +Gwynne, far above him,--and it was a long time before it stopped +whirling and became fixed in one place. Then he realized that it +was the voice of Gwynne that was speaking to him, and he made out +the words. Something warm and wet crept along the sides of his +mouth, over his chin, down his neck. His throat was full of a hot +nauseous fluid. He raised himself on one elbow and spat. + +"Get up! Get up, you filthy whelp! I'm not going to hit you again. +Get up, I say!" + +He struggled to his knees and then to his feet, sagging limply +against the fence, to which he clung for support. He felt for his +nose, filled with a horrid, sickening dread that it was no longer +on his face. + +"I ought to kill you," he heard Gwynne saying. "You black-hearted, +lying scoundrel. Get out of my sight!" + +He succeeded in straightening up and looked about him through a mist +of tears. He tried to speak, but could only wheeze and sputter. He +cleared his throat raucously and spat again. + +"Where--where is she?" he managed to say at last. + +"Shut up! You've dealt her the foulest--" + +He broke off abruptly, struck by the other's expression: Lapelle +was staring past him in the direction of the house and there was +the look of a frightened, trapped animal in his glassy eyes. + +"My God!" fell from his lips, and then suddenly he sprang forward, +placing Kenneth's body between him and the object of his terror. +"Stop her! For God's sake, Gwynne,--stop her!" + +For the first time since Barry went crashing to earth and lay as one +dead, Gwynne raised his eyes from the blood-smeared face. Vaguely +he remembered the swift rush of Viola's feet as she sped past +him,--but that was long ago and he had not looked to see whither +she fled. + +She was now coming down the steps of the porch, a half-raised rifle +in her hands. He was never to forget her white, set face, nor the +menacing look in her eyes as she advanced to the killing of Barry +Lapelle,--for there was no mistaking her purpose. + +"Drop down!" he shouted to Lapelle. As Barry sank cowering behind +him, he cried out sharply to the girl: "Viola! Drop that gun! Do +you hear me? Good God, have you lost your senses?" + +She came on slowly, her head a little to one side the better to +see the partially obscured figure of the crouching man. + +"It won't do you any good to hide, Barry," she said, in a voice +that neither of the men recognized. + +"Don't be a fool, Viola!" cried Kenneth. "Leave him to me. Go back +to the house. I will attend to him." + +She stopped and lifted her eyes to stare at the speaker in sheer +wonder and astonishment. + +"Why,--you heard what he said. You heard what he called my mother. +Stand away from him, Kenneth." + +"I can't allow you to shoot him, Viola. You will have to shoot me +first. My God, child,--do you want to have a man's life-blood on +your hands?" + +"He said she ran away with your father," she cried, a spasm of pain +crossing her face. "He said I was born before they were married. +I have a right to kill him. Do you hear? I have a right to--" + +"Don't you know it would be murder? Cold-blooded murder? No! You +will have to kill me first. Do you understand? I shall not move +an inch. I am not going to let you do something you will regret to +the end of your life. Put it down! Drop that gun, I say! If there +is to be any killing, I will do it,--not you!" + +She closed her eyes. Her tense body relaxed. The two men, watching +her with bated breath and vastly different emotions, could almost +visualize the struggle that was going on within her. At last the +long rifle barrel was lowered; as the muzzle touched the ground +she opened her eyes. Slowly they went from Kenneth to the man who +crouched behind him. She gazed at the bloody face as if seeing it +for the first time. + +The woman in her revolted at the spectacle. After a moment of +indecision, she turned with a shudder and walked toward the house, +dragging the rifle by the stock. As she was about to mount the +steps she paused to send a swift glance over her shoulder and then, +obeying the appeal in Kenneth's eyes, reluctantly, even carefully, +leaned the gun against a post and disappeared through the door. + +"Stand up!" ordered Gwynne, turning to Lapelle. "I ought to kill +you myself. It's in my heart to do so. Do you know what you've done +to her?" + +Barry drew himself up, his fast swelling, bloodshot eyes filled +with a deadly hatred. His voice was thick and unsteady. + +"You'd better kill me while you have the chance," he said. "Because, +so help me God, I'm going to kill you for this." + +"Go!" thundered the other, his hands twitching. "If you don't, I'll +strangle the life out of you." + +Lapelle drew back, quailing before the look in Kenneth's eyes. He +saw murder in them. + +"You didn't give me a chance, damn you," he snarled. "You hit me +before I had a chance to--" + +"I wish to God I had hit you sooner,--and that I had killed you," +grated Kenneth. + +"You will wish that with all your soul before I am through with +you," snarled Barry. "Oh, I'm not afraid of you! I know the whole +beastly story about your father and that--" + +"Stop!" cried Kenneth, taking a step forward, his arm drawn back. +"Not another word, Lapelle! You've said enough! I know where you +got your information,--and I can tell you, here and now, that the +man lied to you. I'm going to give you twenty-four hours to get out +of this town for good. And if I hear that you have repeated a word +of what you said to her I'll see to it that you are strung up by +the neck and your miserable carcass filled with bullets. Oh, you +needn't sputter! It will be your word against mine. I guess you +know which of us the men of this town will believe. And you needn't +expect to be supported by your friend Jasper Suggs or the gentle +Mr. Hawk,--Aha, THAT got under your pelt, didn't it? If either of +them is still alive at this minute, it's because he surrendered +without a fight and not because God took care of him. Your beautiful +game is spoiled, Lapelle,--and you'll be lucky to get off with +a whole skin. I'm giving you a chance. Get out of this town,--and +stay out!" + +Barry, recovering quickly from the shock, made a fair show of +bravado. + +"What are you talking about? What the devil have I got to do with--" + +"That's enough! You know what I'm talking about. Take my advice. +Get out of town before you are a day older. You will save yourself +a ride on a rail and a rawhiding that you'll not forget to your +dying day." + +"I will leave this town when I feel like it, Gwynne," said Lapelle, +drawing himself up. "I don't take orders from you. You will hear +from me later. You've got the upper hand now,--with that nigger of +yours standing over there holding an axe in his hands, ready to +kill me if I make a move. We'll settle this in the regular way, +Gwynne,--with pistols. You may expect a friend of mine to call on +you shortly." + +"As you like," retorted the other, bowing stiffly. "You may name +the time and place." + +Lapelle bowed and then cast an eye about in quest of his hat. It +was lying in the road some distance away. He strode over and picked +it up. Quite naturally, perhaps unconsciously, he resorted to the +habit of years: he cocked it slightly at just the right angle over +his eye. Then, without a glance behind, he crossed the road and +plunged into the thicket. + +Kenneth watched him till he disappeared from view. Suddenly aware +of a pain in his hand, he held it out before him and was astonished +to find that the knuckles were already beginning to puff. He winced +when he tried to clench his fist. A rueful smile twitched at the +corners of his mouth. + +"Mighty slim chance I'll have," he said to himself. "Won't be able +to pull a trigger to save my life." + +He hurried up the path and, without knocking, opened the door and +entered the house. Hattie was coming down the stairs, her eyes as +round as saucers. + +"Where is Miss Viola?" + +"She done gone up stairs, suh. Lan' sakes, Mistah Gwynne, what fo' +yo' do dat to Mistah Barry? He her beau. Didn't yo'all know dat? Ah +close mah eyes when she tooken dat gun out dar. Sez Ah, she gwine +to shoot Mistah Gwynne--" + +"Tell her I'm here, Hattie. I must see her at once. It's all right. +She isn't angry with me." + +The girl hesitated. "She look mighty white an' sick, suh. She never +say a word. Jes' go right up stairs, she did. Ah follers, 'ca'se +Ah was skeert about de way she look. She shutten de do' an' drop +de bolt,--yas, suh, dat's what she do. Lordy, Ah wonder why her ma +don't come home an' look after--" + +"See here," he broke in, "don't disturb her now. I will come back +in a little while. If she wants me for anything you will find me +out at the gate. Do you understand? Don't fail to call me. I am +going out there to wait for her mother." + +It suddenly had occurred to him that he ought to intercept Rachel +Carter before she reached the house, not only to prepare her for +the shock that awaited her but to devise between them some means +of undoing the harm that already had been done. They would have +to stand together in denouncing Barry, they would have to swear to +Viola that the story was false. He realized what this would mean +to him: an almost profane espousal of his enemy's cause, involving +not only the betrayal of his own conscience, but the deliberate +repudiation of the debt he owed his mother and her people. He would +have to go before Viola and proclaim the innocence of the woman +who had robbed and murdered his own mother. The unthinkable, the +unbelievable confronted him. + +A cold sweat broke out all over him as he stood down by the gate, +torn between hatred for one woman and love for another: Rachel and +Minda Carter. He could not spare one without sparing the other; +lying to one of them meant lying for the other. But there was no +alternative. The memory of the look in Viola's eyes as she shrank +away from Lapelle, the thought of the cruel shock she must have +suffered, the picture of her as she came down the path to kill--no, +there could be no alternative! + +And so, as he leaned rigidly against the gate, sick at heart but +clear of head, waiting for Rachel Carter, he came to think that, +after all, a duel with Barry Lapelle might prove to be the easiest +and noblest way out of his difficulties. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE AFFAIR AT HAWK'S CABIN + + +It wanted half an hour of daybreak when a slow-riding, silent +group of men came to a halt and dismounted in the narrow lane some +distance from the ramshackle abode of Martin Hawk, squatting unseen +among the trees that lined the steep bank of the Wabash. A three +hours' ride through dark, muddy roads lay behind them. There were +a dozen men in all,--and one woman, at whose side rode the hunter, +Stain. They had stopped at the latter's cabin on the way down, and +she had conversed apart with him through a window. Then they rode +off, leaving him to follow. + +There were no lights, and no man spoke above a whisper. The work of +tethering the horses progressed swiftly but with infinite caution. +Eyes made sharp by long hours of darkness served their owners well +in this stealthy enterprise. + +The half-hour passed and the night began to lift. Vague unusual +objects slowly took shape, like gloomy spectres emerging from +impenetrable fastnesses. Blackness gave way to a faint drab pall; +then the cold, unearthly grey of the still remote dawn came stealing +across the fields. + +At last it was light enough to see, and the advance upon the cabin +began. Silently through the dense, shadowy wood crept the sheriff +and his men,--followed by the tall woman in black and a lank, +bearded man whose rifle-stock bore seven tiny but significant +notches,--sinister epitaphs for as many by-gone men. + +A dog barked,--the first alarm. Then another, and still a third +joined in a fierce outcry against the invaders. Suddenly the door +of the hut was thrown open and a half-dressed man stooped in the +low aperture, peering out across the dawn-shrouded clearing. The +three coon-dogs, slinking out of the shadows, crowded up to the +door, their snarling muzzles pointed toward the encircling trees. + +Two men stepped out of the underbrush and advanced. Even in the dim, +uncertain light, Martin Hawk could see that they carried rifles. +His eyes were like those of the bird whose name he bore. They swept +the clearing in a flash. As if by magic, men appeared to right of +him, to left of him, in front of him. He counted them. Seven,--no, +there was another,--eight. And he knew there were more of them, +back of the house, cutting off retreat to the river. + +"Don't move, Martin," called out a voice. + +"What do you want?" demanded Hawk, in a sharp, querulous voice. + +"I am the sheriff. Got a warrant for your arrest. No use makin' a +fight for it, Hawk. You are completely surrounded. You can't get +away." + +"I ain't done nothin' to be arrested fer," cried the man in the +doorway. "I'm an honest man,--I hain't ever done--" + +"Well, that's not for me to decide," interrupted the sheriff, now +not more than a dozen feet away. "I've got a warrant charging you +with sheep-stealing and so on, and that's all there is to it. I'm +not the judge and jury. You come along quiet now and no foolishness." + +"Who says I stole sheep?" + +"Step outside here and I'll read the affidavit to you. And say, if +you don't want your dogs massacreed, you'd better call 'em off." + +Martin Hawk looked over his shoulder into the dark interior of the +hut, spoke to some one under his breath, and then began cursing +his dogs. + +"I might have knowed you'd git me into trouble, you lop-eared, +sheep-killin' whelps!" he whined. "I'd ought to shot the hull +pack of ye when you was pups. Git out'n my sight! There's yer +sheep-stealers, sheriff,--them ornery, white-livered, blood-suckin'--" + +"I don't know anything about that, Martin," snapped the sheriff. +"All I know is, you got to come along with me,--peaceable or +otherwise,--and I guess if you're half as smart as I think you are, +you won't come otherwise. Here! Don't go back in that house, Hawk." + +"Well, I got to tell my daughter--" + +"We'll tell her. There's another man or two in there. Just tell +'em to step outside,--and leave their weapons behind 'em." + +"There ain't a livin' soul in thar, 'cept my daughter,--so he'p +me God, sheriff," cried Hawk, his teeth beginning to chatter. The +sheriff was close enough to see the look of terror and desperation +in his eyes. + +"No use lyin', Hawk. You've got a man named Suggs stayin' with you. +He ain't accused of anything, so he needn't be afraid to come out. +Same applies to your daughter Moll. But I don't want anybody in +there to take a shot at us the minute we turn our backs. Shake 'em +out, Hawk." + +"I tell ye there ain't nobody here but me an' Moll,--an' she's sick. +She can't come out. An'--an' you can't go in,--not unless you got +a warrant to search my house. That's what the law sez,--an' you +know it. I'll go along with you peaceable,--an' stand my trial +fer sheep-stealin' like a man. Lemme get my hat an' coat, an' I'll +come--" + +"I guess there's something queer about all this," interrupted the +sheriff. The man beside him had just whispered something in his +ear. "We'll take a look inside that cabin, law or no law, Hawk. +Move up, boys!" he called out to the scattered men. "Keep your +eyes skinned. If you ketch sight of a rifle ball comin' to'ards +you,--dodge. And you, Martin, step outside here, where you won't +be in the way. I'm going in there." + +Martin Hawk looked wildly about him. On all sides were men with +rifles. There was no escape. His craven heart failed him, his knees +gave way beneath him and an instant later he was grovelling in the +mud at the sheriff's feet. + +"I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I swear to God I didn't. It was +her. She done it,--Moll done it!" he squealed in abject terror. + +He was grabbed by strong hands and jerked to his feet. While others +held him, the sheriff and several of the men rushed into the cabin. + +Off at the edge of the clearing stood Rachel Carter and Isaac Stain, +watching the scene at the door. + +"One look will be enough," the woman had said tersely. "Twenty +years will not have changed Simon Braley much. I will know him at +sight." + +"You got to be sure, Mrs. Gwyn," muttered the hunter. "Ef you got +the slightest doubt, say so." + +"I will, Isaac." + +"And ef you say it's him, fer sure an' no mistake, I'll foller him +to the end of the world but what I git him." + +"If it is Simon Braley he will make a break for cover. He is not +like that whimpering coward over yonder. And the sheriff will make +no attempt to bring him down. There is no complaint against him. +No one knows that he is Simon Braley." + +"Well, I'll be on his heels," was the grim promise of Isaac Stain, +thinking of the sister who had been slain by Braley's Indians down +on the River White. + +One of the men rushed out of the cabin. He was vastly excited. + +"Don't let go of him," he shouted to the men who were holding +Martin. "There's hell to pay in there. Where is Mrs. Gwyn?" + +"I never done it!" wailed Martin, livid with terror. "I swear to +God--" + +"Shut up!" + +"She's over there, Sam,--with Ike Stain." + +Ignoring the question that followed him, the man called Sam hurried +up to the couple at the edge of the bush. + +"Better clear out, Mrs. Gwyn," he said soberly. "I mean, don't stay +around. Something in there you oughtn't to see." + +"What is it?" she inquired sharply. + +"Well, you see,--there's a dead man in there,--knifed. Blood all +over everything and--" + +"The man called Suggs?" + +"I reckon so. Leastwise it must be him. 'Pears to be a stranger to +all of us. Deader'n a door nail. He's--" + +"I am not chicken-hearted, Mr. Corbin," she announced. "I have +seen a good many dead men in my time. The sight of blood does not +affect me. I will go in and see him. No! Please do not stay me." + +Despite his protestations, she strode resolutely across the lot. +As she passed Martin Hawk that cowering rascal stared at her, +first without comprehension, then with a suddenly awakened, acute +understanding. + +It was she who had brought the authorities down upon him. She had +made "affidavy" against him,--she had got him into this horrible +mess by swearing that he stole her sheep and calves. True, he +had stolen from her,--there was, no doubt about that,--but he had +covered his tracks perfectly. Any one of a half-dozen men along the +river might have stolen her stock,--they were stealing right and +left. How then did she come to fix upon him as the one to accuse? +In a flash he leaped to a startling conclusion. Barry Lapelle! The +man who knew all about his thievish transactions and who for months +had profited by them. Hides, wool, fresh meats from the secret lairs +and slaughter pens back in the trackless wilds, all these had gone +down the river on Barry's boats, products of a far-reaching system +of outlawry, with Barry and his captains sharing in the proceeds. + +Now he understood. Lapelle had gone back on him, had betrayed him +to his future mother-in-law. The fine gentleman had no further use +for him; Mrs. Gwyn had given her consent to the marriage and in +return for that he had betrayed a loyal friend! And now look at +the position he was in, all through Barry Lapelle. Sheep stealing +was nothing to what he might have to face. Even though Moll had done +the killing, he would have a devil of a time convincing a jury of +the fact. More than likely, Moll would up and deny that she had +anything to do with it,--and then what? It would be like the ornery +slut to lie out of it and let 'em hang her own father, just to pay +him back for the lickings he had given her. + +All this raced through the fast-steadying brain of Martin Hawk as he +watched his accuser pass him by without a look and stop irresolutely +on his threshold to stare aghast at what lay beyond. It became a +conviction, rather than a conjecture. Barry had set the dogs upon +him! Snake! Well,--just let him get loose from these plagued +hounds for half an hour or so and, by glory, they'd have something +to hang him for or his name wasn't Martin Hawk. + +Isaac Stain did not move from the spot where she had left him, over +at the edge of the clearing. His rifle was ready, his keen eyes +alert. Rachel Carter entered the hut. Many minutes passed. Then +she came to the door and beckoned to him. + +"It is Simon Braley," she said quietly. "He is dead. The girl killed +him, Isaac. Will you ride over to my farm and have Allen come over +here with a wagon? They're going to take the body up to town,--and +the girl, too." + +Stain stood his rifle against the wall of the hut. "I guess I won't +need this," was all he said as he turned and strode away. + +The man called Jasper Suggs lay in front of the tumble-down fireplace, +his long body twisted grotesquely by the final spasm of pain that +carried him off. The lower part of his body was covered by a filthy +strip of rag carpet which some one had hastily thrown over him as +Rachel Carter was on the point of entering the house. His coarse +linsey shirt was soaked with blood, now dry and almost black. The +harsh light from the open door struck full upon his bearded face +and its staring eyes. + +In a corner, at the foot of a straw pallet, ordinarily screened +from the rest of the cabin by a couple of suspended quilts, stood +Moll Hawk, leaning against the wall, her dark sullen eyes following +the men as they moved about the room. The quilts, ruthlessly torn +from their fastenings on the pole, lay scattered and trampled on +the floor, sinister evidence of the struggle that had taken place +between woman and beast. At the other end of the room were two +similar pallets, unscreened, and beside one of these lay Jasper +Suggs' rawhide boots. + +From her place in the shadows Moll Hawk watched the other woman +stoop over and gaze intently at the face of the slain man. She was +a tall, well-developed girl of twenty or thereabouts. Her long, +straight hair, the colour of the raven's wing, swung loose about +her shoulders, an occasional strand trailing across her face, giving +her a singularly witchlike appearance. Her body from the waist up +was stripped almost bare; there were several long streaks of blood +across her breast, where the fingers of a gory hand had slid in +relaxing their grip on her shoulder. With one hand she clutched +what was left of a tattered garment, vainly seeking to hide her +naked breasts. The stout, coarse dress had been almost torn from +her body. + +Mrs. Gwyn left the hut but soon returned. After a few earnest words +with the sheriff, she came slowly over to the girl. Moll shrank +back against the wall, a strange glitter leaping into her sullen, +lifeless eyes. + +"I don't want nobody prayin' over me," she said huskily. "I jest +want to be let alone." + +"I am not going to pray over you, my girl. I want you to come out +in the back yard with me, where I can wash the blood off of you +and put something around you." + +"What's the use'n that? They're goin' to take me to jail, ain't +they?" + +"Have you another frock to put on, Moll?" + +The girl looked down at her torn, disordered dress, a sneering +smile on her lips. + +"This is all I got,--an' now look at it. I ain't had a new dress in +God knows how long. Pap ain't much on dressin' me up. Mr. Lapelle +he promised me a new dress but--say, who air you?" + +"I am Mrs. Gwyn, Moll." + +"I might ha' knowed it. You're her ma, huh? Well, I guess you'd better +go on away an' let me alone. I ain't axin' no favours off'n--" "I +am not trying to do you a favour. I am only trying to make you a +little more presentable. You are going up to town, Moll." + +"Yes,--I guess that's so. Can't they hang me here an' have it over?" +A look of terror gleamed in her eyes, but there was no flinching +of the body, no tremor in her voice. + +The sheriff came over. "Better let Mrs. Gwyn fix you up a little, +Moll. She's a good, kind lady and she'll--" + +"I don't want to go to town," whimpered the girl, covering her face +with her hands. "I don't want to be hung. I jest had to do it,--I +jest had to. There wuz no other way,--'cept to--'cept to--an' I +jest couldn't do that. Now I wish I had,--oh, Lordy, how I wish I +had! That wuz bad enough, but hangin's wuss. He wuz goin' away in +a day or two, anyhow, so--" + +"You're not going to be hung, Moll," broke in the sheriff. "Don't +you worry about that. We don't hang women for killing men like +that feller over there. Like as not you'll be set free in no time +at all. All you've got to do is to tell the truth about how it +happened and that'll be all there is to it." + +"You're lyin' to me, jest to git me to go along quiet," she quavered, +but there was a new light in her eyes. + +"I'm not lying. You will have to stand trial, of course,--you +understand that, don't you?--but there isn't a jury on earth that +would hang you. We don't do that kind of thing to women. Now you +go along with Mrs. Gwyn and do what she says,--and you can tell me +all about this after a while." + +"I'll wash, but I hain't got no more clothes," muttered the girl. + +"We will manage somehow," said Mrs. Gwyn. "One of the men will give +you a coat,--or you may have my cape to wear, Moll." + +Moll looked at her in surprise. Again she said the unexpected thing. +"Why, ever'body says you air a mighty onfeelin' woman, Mis' Gwyn. +I can't believe you'd let me take your cape." + +"You will see, my girl. Come! Show me where to find water and a +comb and--" + +"Wait a minute," said Moll abruptly. "Somehow I ain't as skeert +as I wuz. You're shore they won't hang me? 'Ca'se I'd hate to be +hung,--I'd hate to die that-away, Mister." + +"They won't hang you, Moll,--take my word for it." + +"Well, then," said she, bringing forward the hand she had been +holding behind her back all the time; "here's the knife I done it +with. It's his'n. He was braggin' last night about how many gullets +he had slit with it,--I mean men's gullets. I wuz jest sort o' +hangin' onto it in case I--but I don't believe I ever could a' done +it. 'Tain't 'ca'se I'm afeared to die but they say a person that +takes his own life is shore to go to hell--'ca'se he don't git no +chance fer to repent. Take it, Mister." + +She handed the big sheath-knife to the sheriff. Then she followed +Rachel Carter out of the hut, apparently unconscious of the curious +eyes that followed her. She passed close by the corpse. She looked +down at the ghastly face and twisted body without the slightest +trace of emotion,--neither dread nor repugnance nor interest beyond a +curious narrowing of the eyes as of one searching for some sign of +trickery on the part of a wily adversary. On the way out she stopped +to pick up a wretched, almost toothless comb and some dishrags. + +"I guess we better go down to the river," she said as they stepped +out into the open. "'Tain't very fer, Mrs. Gwyn,--an' the water's +cleaner. Hain't no danger of me tryin' to git away," she went on, +with a feeble grin as her eyes swept the little clearing, revealing +armed men in all directions. Her gaze rested for a moment on Martin +Hawk, who was staring at her from his seat on a stump hard by. + +"There's my pap over yonder," she said, with a scowl. "He's the one +that ort to be strung up fer all this. He didn't do it,--but he's +to blame, just the same. They ain't got him 'rested fer doin' it, +have they? 'Ca'se he didn't. He'll tell you he's as innocent as +a unborn child,--he allus does,--an' he is as fer as the killin' +goes. But ef he'd done what wuz right hit never would 'a' happened. +Thet's whut I got ag'inst him." + +Rachel Carter was looking at the strange creature with an interest +not far removed from pity. Despite the sullen, hang-dog expression +she was a rather handsome girl; wild, untutored, almost untamed she +was, and yet not without a certain diffidence that bespoke better +qualities than appeared on the surface. She was tall and strongly +built, with the long, swinging stride of the unhampered woods-woman. +Her young shoulders and back were bent with the toil and drudgery +of the life she led. Her eyes, in which lurked a never-absent gleam +of pain, were dark, smouldering, deep set and so restless that one +could not think of them as ever being closed in sleep. + +The girl led the way down a narrow path to a little sand-bar. + +"I go in swimmin' here every day, 'cept when it's froze over," she +volunteered dully. "Hain't you skeert at the sight o' blood, ma'am? +Some people air. We wuz figgerin' on whuther we'd dig a grave fer +him or jest pull out yonder into the current an' drop him over. +Pap said we had to git rid of him 'fore anybody come around. 'Nen +the dogs begin to bark an' he thought mebby it wuz Mr. Lapelle, so +he--say, you mustn't get Mr. Lapelle mixed up in this. He--" + +"I know all about Mr. Lapelle, Moll," interrupted the older woman. + +The girl gave her a sharp, almost hostile look. "Then you hain't +goin' to let him have your girl, air you?" + +Mrs. Gwyn shook her head. "No, Moll,--I am not," she said. + +"You set here on this log," ordered the girl as they came down to +the water's edge. "I'll do my own washin'. I'm kind o' 'shamed to +have any one see me as naked as this. There ain't much left of my +dress, is they? We fit fer I don't know how long, like a couple +o' dogs. You c'n see the black an' blue places on my arms out here +in the daylight,-an' I guess his finger marks must be on my neck, +where he wuz chokin' me. I wuz tryin' to wrassle around till I +could git nigh to the table, where his knife wuz stickin'. My eyes +wuz poppin' right out'n my head when I--" + +"For heaven's sake, girl!" cried Rachel Carter. "Don't! Don't tell +me any more! I can't bear to hear you talk about it." + +Moll stared at her for a moment as if bewildered, and then suddenly +turned away, her chin quivering with mortification. She had been +reprimanded! + +For several minutes Rachel stood in silence, watching her as she +washed the blood from her naked breast and shoulders. Presently +the girl turned toward her, as if for inspection. + +"I'm sorry, ma'am, if I talked too much," she mumbled awkwardly. +"I'd ort to have knowed better. Is--is it all off?" + +"I think so," said Rachel, pulling herself together with an effort. +"Let me--" + +"No, I'll finish it," said the girl stubbornly. She dried her +brown, muscular arms, rubbed her body vigorously with one of the +rags and then began to comb out her long, tangled hair,--not gently +but with a sort of relentless energy. Swiftly, deftly she plaited +it into two long braids, which she left hanging down in front of +her shoulders, squaw fashion. + +"How long had you known this man Suggs, Moll?" suddenly inquired +the other woman. + +"Off an' on ever sence I kin remember," replied the girl. "Pap +knowed him down south. We hain't seed much of him fer quite a spell. +Four--five year, I guess mebby. He come here last week one day." + +The eyes of the two women met. Moll broke the short silence that +ensued. She glanced over her shoulder. The nearest man was well +out of earshot. Still she lowered her voice. + +"He claims he use ter know you a long time ago," she said. + +"Yes?" + +"Mebby you'd recollect him ef I tole you his right name." + +"His name was Simon Braley," said Rachel Carter calmly. + +Moll's eyes narrowed. "Then what he sez wuz true?" + +"I don't know what he said to you, Moll." + +"He sez you run off with some other woman's husband," replied Moll +bluntly. + +"Did he tell this to any one except you and your father?" + +"He didn't tell no one but me, fer as I know. He didn't tell Pap." + +"When did he tell you?" + +"Las' night," said Moll, suddenly dropping her eyes. "He wuz +drinkin',--an' I thought mebby he wuz lyin'." + +"You are sure he did not tell your father?" + +"I'm purty shore he didn't." + +"Why did he tell you?" + +The girl raised her eyes. There was a deeper look of pain in them +now. "I'd ruther not tell," she muttered. + +"You need not be afraid." + +"Well, he wuz arguin' with me. He said there wuzn't any good women +in the world. 'Why,' sez he, 'I seen a woman this very day that +everybody thinks is as good as the angels up in heaven, but when +I tell you whut I know about her you'll--'" + +"You need not go on," interrupted Rachel Carter, drawing her brows +together. "Would you believe me if I told you the man lied, Moll +Hawk?" + +"Yes, ma'am,--I would," said the girl promptly. "Fer as that goes, +I TOLE him he lied." + +Rachel started to say something, then closed her lips tightly and +fell to staring out over the river. The girl eyed her for a moment +and then went on: + +"You needn't be skeert of me ever tellin' anybody whut he said to +me. Hit wouldn't be right to spread a lie like thet, Mis' Gwyn. +You--" + +"I think they are waiting for us, Moll," interrupted Rachel, +suddenly holding out her hand to the girl. "Thank you. Come, give +me your hand. We will go back to them, hand in hand, my girl." + +Moll stared at her in sheer astonishment. + +"You--you don't want to hold my hand in yours, do you?" she murmured +slowly, incredulously. + +"I do. You will find me a good friend,--and you will need good +friends, Moll." + +Dumbly the girl held out her hand. It was clasped firmly by Rachel +Carter. They were half-way up the bank when Moll held back and +tried to withdraw her hand. + +"I--I can't let you,--why, ma'am, that's the hand I--I held the +knife in," she cried, agitatedly. + +Rachel gripped the hand more firmly. "I know it is, Moll," she said +calmly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE PRISONERS + + +The grewsome cavalcade wended its way townward. Moll Hawk sat +between the sheriff and Cyrus Allen on the springless board that +served as a seat atop the lofty sideboards of the wagon. The crude +wooden wheels rumbled and creaked and jarred along the deep-rutted +road, jouncing the occupants of the vehicle from side to side with +unseemly playfulness. Back in the bed of the wagon, under a gaily +coloured Indian blanket, lay the outstretched body of Jasper Suggs, +seemingly alive and responsive to the jolts and twists and turns +of the road. The rear end gate had been removed and three men sat +with their heels dangling outside, their backs to the sinister, +unnoticed traveller who shared accommodations with them. The +central figure was Martin Hawk, grim, saturnine, silent, his feet +and hands secured with leather thongs. Trotting along under his +heels, so to speak, were his three dogs,--their tongues hanging +out, their tails drooping, their eyes turning neither to right nor +left. They were his only friends. + +Some distance behind rode three horsemen, leading as many riderless +steeds. On ahead was another group of riders. Rachel Carter rode +alongside the wagon. + +Moll had firmly refused to wear the older woman's cape. She had on +a coat belonging to one of the men and wore a flimsy, deep-hooded +bonnet that once had been azure blue. Her shoulders sagged wearily, +her back was bent, her arms lay limply upon her knees. She was staring +bleakly before her over the horses' ears, at the road ahead. The +reaction had come. She had told the story of the night, haltingly +but with a graphic integrity that left nothing to be desired. + +Martin Hawk had spent a black and unhappy hour. He was obliged to +listen to his daughter's story and, much to his discontent, was +not permitted to contradict her in any particular. Two or three +mournful attempts to reproach her for lying about her own,--and, +he always added, her ONLY--father, met with increasingly violent +adjurations to "shut up," the last one being so emphatic that he +gave vent to a sharp howl of pain and began feeling with his tongue +to see if all his teeth were there. + +Luckily for him, he was impervious to the scorn of his fellow-man, +else he would have shrivelled under the looks he received from +time to time. Especially distressing to him was that part of her +recital touching upon his unholy greed; he could not help feeling, +with deep parental bitterness, that no man alive ever had a more +heartless, undutiful daughter than he,--a conviction that for the +time being at least caused him to lament the countless opportunities +he had had to beat her to death instead of merely raising a few +perishable welts on her back. If he had done that, say a month ago, +how different everything would be now! + +This part of her story may suffice: + +"Pap never wanted anything so bad in all his life as that powder +horn an' shot flask. They wuz all fixed up with gold an' silver +trimmin's an' I guess there wuz rubies an' di'monds too. Fer three +days Pap dickered with him, tryin' to make some kind of a swap. +Jasper he wouldn't trade 'em er sell 'em nuther. He said they +wuz wuth more'n a thousand dollars. Some big Injun Chief made him +a present of 'em, years ago,--fer savin' his life, he said. First +Pap tried to swap his hounds fer 'em, 'nen said he'd throw in one +of the hosses. Jasper he jest laughed at him. Yesterday I heerd +Pap tell him he would swap him both hosses, seven hogs, the wagon +an' two boats, but Jasper he jest laughed. They wuz still talkin' +about it when they got home from town last night, jest ahead of the +storm. I could hear 'em arguin' out in the room. They wuz drinkin' +an' talkin' so loud I couldn't sleep. + +"Purty soon Pap said he'd trade him our cabin an' ever'thing else +fer that pouch an' flask. It wuz rainin' so hard by this time +I couldn't hear all they said but when it slacked up a little I +cotch my own name. They wuz talkin' about me. I heerd Jasper tell +Pap he'd give him the things ef he'd promise to go away an' leave +him an' me alone in the cabin. That kind o' surprised me. But +all Pap sez wuz that he hated to go out in the rain. So Jasper he +said fer him to wait till hit stopped rainin'. Pap said all right, +he would, an' fer Jasper to hand over the pouch and flask. Jasper +cussed an' said he'd give 'em to him three hours after sunrise +the nex' morning' an' not a minute sooner, an' he wuz to stay away +from the house all that time or he wouldn't give 'em to him at all. +Well, they argued fer some time about that an' finally Pap said +he'd go out to the hoss shed an' sleep if Jasper would hand over +the shot pouch then an' there an' hold back the powder flask till +mornin'. Jasper he said all right, he would. I never guess what +wuz back of all this. So when Pap went out an' shut the door behind +him, I wuz kind o' thankful, ca'se all the arguin' an' jawin' would +stop an' I could go to sleep ag'in. Jasper he let down the bolt +inside the door." + +. . . . . . . . . . . . + +It was after eight o'clock when the wagon and its escort entered +the outskirts of the town. Grim, imperturbable old dames sitting +on their porches smoking their clay or corncob pipes regarded +the strange procession with mild curiosity; toilers in gardens +and barnyards merely remarked to themselves that "some'pin must'a +happened some'eres" and called out to housewife or offspring not +to let them forget to "mosey up to the square" later in the day for +particulars, if any. The presence of the sheriff was more or less +informing; it was obvious even to the least sprightly intelligence +that somebody had been arrested. But the appearance of Mrs. Gwyn +on horseback, riding slowly beside the wagon, was not so easily +accounted for. That circumstance alone made it absolutely worth +while to "mosey up to the square" a little later on. + +Martin Hawk was lodged in the recently completed brick jail +adjoining the courthouse. He complained bitterly of the injustice +that permitted his daughter, a confessed murderess, to enjoy the +hospitality of the sheriff's home whilst he, accused of nothing more +heinous than sheep-stealing, was flung into jail and subjected to +the further indignity of being audibly described as a fit subject +for the whipping post, an institution that still prevailed despite +a general movement to abolish it throughout the state. + +It galled him to hear the fuss that was being made over Moll. +Everybody seemed to be taking her part. Why, that Gwyn woman not +only went so far as to say she would be responsible for Moll's +appearance in court, but actually arranged to buy her a lot of +new clothes. And the sheriff patted her on the shoulder and loudly +declared that the only thing any judge or jury could possibly find +her guilty of was criminal negligence in only half-doing the job. +This was supplemented by a look that left no doubt in Martin's mind +as to just what he considered to be the neglected part of the job. +He bethought himself of the one powerful friend he had in town,--Barry +Lapelle. So he sent this message by word of mouth to the suspected +dandy: + +"I'm in jail. I want you to come and see me right off. I mean +business." + +Needless to say, this message,--conveying a far from subtle threat,--was +a long time in reaching Mr. Lapelle, who had gone into temporary +retirement at Jack Trentman's shanty, having arrived at that +unsavoury retreat by a roundabout, circuitous route which allowed +him to spend some time on the bank of a sequestered brook. + +Meanwhile Rachel Carter approached her own home, afoot and weary. +As she turned the bend she was surprised and not a little disturbed +by the sight of Kenneth Gwynne standing at her front gate. He +hurried up the road to meet her. + +"The worst has come to pass," he announced, stopping in front of +her. "Before you go in I must tell you just what happened here +this morning. Come in here among the trees where we can't be seen +from the house." + +She listened impassively to his story. Only the expression in her +steady, unswerving eyes betrayed her inward concern and agitation. +Not once did she interrupt him. Her shoulders, he observed, drooped +a little and her arms hung limply at her side, mute evidence of a +sinking heart and the resignation that comes with defeat. + +"I am ready and willing," he assured her at the end, "to do anything, +to say anything you wish. It is possible for us to convince her +that there is no truth in what he said. We can lie--" + +She held up her hand, shaking her head almost angrily. "No! +Not that, Kenneth. I cannot permit you to lie for ME. That would +be unspeakable. I am not wholly without honour. There is nothing +you can do for her,--for either of us at present. Thank you for +preparing me,--and for your offer, Kenneth. Stay away from us until +you have had time to think it all over. Then you will realize that +this generous impulse of yours would do more harm than good. Let +her think what she will of me, she must not lose her faith in you, +my boy." + +"But--what of her?" he expostulated. "What are you going to say to +her when she asks you--" + +"I don't know," she interrupted, lifelessly. "I am not a good liar, +Kenneth Gwynne. Whatever else you may say or think of me, I--I have +never wilfully lied." + +She started away, but after a few steps turned back to him. "Jasper +Suggs is dead. Moll Hawk killed him last night. She has been +arrested. There is nothing you can do for Viola at present, but +you may be able to help that poor, unfortunate girl. Suggs told +her about me. She will keep the secret. Go and see the sheriff at +once. He will tell you all that has happened." + +Then she strode off without another word. He watched the tall, +black figure until it turned in at the gate and was lost to view, +a sort of stupefaction gripping him. Presently he aroused himself +and walked slowly homeward. As he passed through his own gate he +looked over at the window of the room in which Viola had sought +seclusion. The curtains hung limp and motionless. He wondered what +was taking place inside the four walls of that room. + +Out of the maze into which his thoughts had been plunged by the +swift procession of events groped the new and disturbing turn in +the affairs of Rachel Carter. What was back of the untold story of +the slaying of Jasper Suggs? What were the circumstances? Why had +Moll Hawk killed the man? Had Rachel Carter figured directly or +indirectly in the tragedy? He recalled her significant allusion +to Isaac Stain the night before and his own rather startling +inference,--and now she was asking him to help Moll Hawk in her +hour of tribulation. A cold perspiration started out all over him. +The question persisted: What was back of the slaying of Jasper +Suggs? + +He gave explicit and peremptory directions to Zachariah in case +Mrs. Gwyn asked for him, and then set out briskly for the courthouse. + +By this time the news of the murder had spread over the town. A +crowd had gathered in front of Scudder's undertaking establishment. +Knots of men and women, disregarding traffic, stood in the streets +adjoining the public square, listening to some qualified narrator's +account of the night's expedition and the tragedy at Martin Hawk's. + +Kenneth hurried past these crowds and made his way straight to the +office of the sheriff. Farther down the street a group of people +stood in front of the sheriff's house, while in the vicinity of +the little jail an ever-increasing mob was collecting. + +"Judge" Billings espied him. Disengaging himself from a group +of men at the corner of the square, the defendant in the case of +Kenwright vs. Billings made a bee-line for his young attorney. + +"I've been over to your office twice, young man," he announced as +he came up. "Where the devil have you been keepin' yourself? Mrs. +Gwyn left word for you to come right up to her house. She wants +you to take charge of the Hawk girl's case. Maybe you don't know +it, but you've been engaged to defend her. You better make tracks +up to Mrs. Gwyn's and--" + +"I have seen Mrs. Gwyn," interrupted Kenneth. "She sent me to the +sheriff. Where is he?" + +"Over yonder talkin' to that crowd in front of the tavern. He's +sort o' pickin' out a jury in advance,--makin' sure that the right +men get on it. He got me for one. He don't make any bones about +it. Just tells you how it all happened an' then asks you whether +you'd be such a skunk as to even think of convictin' the girl for +what she did. Then you up an' blaspheme considerable about what you'd +like to do to her dodgasted father, an' before you git anywhere's +near through, he holds up his hand an' says, 'Now, I've only got to +git three more (or whatever it is), an' then the jury's complete!' +We're figgerin' on havin' the trial to-morrow mornin' between +nine an' ten o'clock. The judge says it's all right, far as he's +concerned. We'd have it to-day, only Moll's got to have a new dress +an' bonnet an' such-like before she can appear in court. All you'll +have to do, Kenny, is jest to set back,--look wise an' let her tell +her story. 'Cordin' to law, she's got to stand trial fer murder an' +she's got to have counsel. Nobody's goin' to object to you makin' +a speech to the jury,--bringin' tears to our eyes, as the sayin' +is,--only don't make it too long. I've got to meet a man at half-past +ten in regards to a hoss trade, an' I happen to know that Tom Rank's +clerk is sick an' he don't want to keep his store locked up fer +more than an hour. I'm jest tellin' you this so's you won't have +to waste time to-morrow askin' the jurymen whether they have formed +an opinion or not, or whether they feel they can give the prisoner +a fair an' impartial trial or not. The sheriff's already asked +us that an' we've all said yes,--so don't delay matters by askin' +ridiculous questions." + +The "Judge" interrupted himself to look at his watch. + +"Well, I've got to be movin' along. I'm on the coroner's jury too, +and we're goin' up to Matt's right away to view the remains. The +verdict will probable be: 'Come to his death on account of Moll +Hawk's self-defense,' or somethin' like that. 'Never put off till +to-morrow what you can do to-day,' as the sayin' goes. Wouldn't +surprise me a bit if he was buried before three o'clock to-day. Then +we won't have him on our minds to-morrow. Well, see you later--if +not sooner." + +An hour later Kenneth accompanied the sheriff to the latter's home +for an interview with his client. He had promptly consented to act +as her counsel after hearing the story of the crime from the sheriff. + +"Mrs. Gwyn told my wife to go out and get some new clothes for the +girl," said the sheriff as they strode down the street, "and she'd +step into the store some time to-day and settle for them. By thunder, +you could have knocked me over with a feather, Kenneth. If your +stepmother was a man we'd describe her as a skinflint. She's as +stingy and unfeeling as they make 'em. Hard as nails and about as +kind-hearted as a tombstone. What other woman on this here earth +would have gone out to Martin Hawk's last night just for the +satisfaction of seein' him arrested? We didn't want her,--not by +a long shot,--but she made up her mind to go, and, by gosh, she +went. I guess maybe she thought we'd make a botch of it, and so she +took that long ride just to make sure she'd git her money's worth. +'Cause, you see, I had to pay each of the men a dollar and a half +and mileage before they'd run the risk of bein' shot by Hawk and +his crowd. Hard as nails, I said, but doggone it, the minute she +saw that girl out there she turned as soft as butter and there is +nothin' she won't do for her. It beats me, by gosh,--it certainly +beats me." + +"Women are very strange creatures," observed Kenneth. + +"Yep," agreed the other. "You can most always tell what a man's +goin' to do, but I'm derned if you can even GUESS what a woman's +up to. Take my wife, for instance. Why, I've been livin' with that +woman for seventeen years and I swear to Guinea she's still got me +puzzled. Course I know what she's talking about most of the time, +but, by gosh, I never know what she's thinkin' about. Women are +like cats. A cat is the thoughtfulest animal there is. It's always +thinkin'. It thinks when it's asleep,--and most of the time when +you think it's asleep it ain't asleep at all. Well, here we are. +I guess Moll's out in the kitchen with my wife. I told Ma to roll +that old dress of Moll's up and save it for the jury to see. It's +the best bit of evidence she's got. All you'll have to do is to +hold it up in front of the jury and start your speech somethin' +like this: 'Gentlemen of the jury, I ask you to gaze upon this here +dress, all tattered and torn,--' and that's as far as you'll get, +'cause this jury is goin' to be composed of gentlemen and they'll +probably stand up right then and there and say 'Not guilty.' Come +right in, Mr. Gwynne." + +After considerable persuasion on the part of the sheriff and his +kindly wife, Moll repeated her story to Gwynne. She was abashed +before this elegant young man. A shyness and confusion that had +been totally lacking in her manner toward the other and older men +took possession of her now, and it was with difficulty that she was +induced to give him the complete details of all that took place in +her father's cabin. + +When he shook hands with her as he was about to take his departure, +she suddenly found courage to say: + +"Kin I see you alone fer a couple of minutes, Mr. Gwynne?" + +"Certainly, Miss Hawk," he replied, gravely courteous. "I am sure +Mr. and Mrs.--" + +"Come right in the sitting-room, Mr. Gwynne," interrupted the +housewife, bustling over to open the door. + +Moll stared blankly at her counsel. No one had ever called her +Miss Hawk before. She was not quite sure that she had heard aright. +Could it be possible that this grand young gentleman had called her +Miss Hawk? Still wondering, she followed him out of the kitchen, +sublimely unconscious of the ridiculous figure she cut in the +garments of the older woman. + +"Shut the door," she said, as her keen, wood-wary eyes swept the +room. She crossed swiftly to the window and looked out. Her lips +curled a little. "Most of them people has been standin' out yonder +sence nine o'clock, tryin' to see what sort of lookin' animile I +am, Mr. Gwynne. Hain't nohody got any work to do?" + +"Vulgar curiosity, nothing more," said he, joining her at the +window. + +"'Tain't ever' day they get a chance to see a murderer, is it?" she +said, lowering her head suddenly and putting a hand to her quivering +chin. For the first time she seemed on the point of breaking down. + +He made haste to exclaim, "You are not a murderer. You must not +think or say such things, Miss Hawk." + +She kept her head down. A scarlet wave crept over her face. "I--I +wish you wouldn't call me that, Mr. Gwynne. Hit--hit makes me +feel kind o'--kind o' lonesome-like. Jest as--ef I didn't have no +friends. Call me Moll. That's all I am." + +He studied for a moment the half-averted face of this girl of +the forest. He could not help contrasting it with the clear-cut, +delicate, beautifully modelled face of another girl of the dark +frontier,--Viola Gwyn. And out of this swift estimate grew a new +pity for poor Moll Hawk, the pity one feels for the vanquished. + +"You will be surprised to find how many friends you have, Moll," +he said gently. + +There was no indication that she was impressed one way or the other +by this remark. She drew back from the window and faced him, her +eyes keen and searching. + +"Do you reckon anybody is listenin'?" she asked. + +"I think not,--in fact, I am sure we are quite alone." + +"Well, this is somethin' I don't keer to have the shurreff know, +or anybody else, Mr. Gwynne. Hit's about Mr. Lapelle." + +"Yes?" he said, as she paused warily. + +"Mrs. Gwyn she tole me this mornin' that whatever I said to my +lawyer would be sacred an' wouldn't ever be let out to anybody, no +matter whut it wuz. She said it wuz ag'inst the code er somethin'. +Wuz she right?" + +"In a sense, yes. Of course, you must understand, Moll, that no +honest lawyer will obligate himself to shield a criminal or a fugitive +from justice, or--I may as well say to you now that if you expect +that of me I must warn you not to tell me anything. You would force +me to withdraw as your counsel. For, you see, Moll, I am an honest +lawyer." + +She looked at him in a sort of mute wonder for a moment, and then +muttered: "Why, Pap,--Pap he sez there ain't no setch thing as a +honest lawyer." An embarrassed little smile twisted her lips. "I +guess that must ha' been one of Pap's lies." + +"It is possible he may never have come in contact with one," he +observed drily. + +"Well, I guess ef you're a honest lawyer," she said, knitting her +brows, "I'd better keep my mouth shut. I wuz only thinkin' mebby +you could see your way to do somethin' I wuz goin' to ask. I jest +wanted to git some word to Mr. Lapelle." + +"Mr. Lapelle and I are not friends, Moll." + +"Is it beca'se of whut I asked Ike Stain to tell ye?" + +"Partly." + +"I mean about stealin' Miss Violy Gwyn an' takin' her away with +him?" + +"I want to thank you, Moll, for sending me the warning. It was +splendid of you." + +"Oh, I didn't do it beca'se--" she began, somewhat defiantly, and +then closed her lips tightly. The sullen look came back into her +eyes. + +"I understand. You--you like him yourself." + +"Well,--whut ef I do?" she burst out. "Hit's my look-out, ain't +it?" + +"Certainly. I am not blaming you." + +"I guess there ain't no use talkin' any more," she said flatly. +"You wouldn't do whut I want ye to do anyhow, so what's the sense +of askin' you. We better go back to the kitchen." + +"It may console you to hear that I have already told Mr. Lapelle +that he must get out of this town before to-morrow morning," said +he deliberately. "And stay out!" + +She leaned forward, her face brightening. "You tole him to git +away to-night?" she half-whispered, eagerly. "I thought you said +you wuzn't a friend o' his'n." + +"That is what I said." + +"Then, whut did you warn him to git away fer?" + +He was thinking rapidly. "I did it on account of Miss Gwyn, Moll," +he replied, evasively. + +"Do you think he'll go?" she asked, a fierce note of anxiety in +her voice. + +"That remains to be seen." Then he hazarded: "I think he will when +he finds out that your father has been arrested." + +"He's been a good friend to me, Mr. Gwynne, Mr. Lapelle has," +said she, a little huskily. She waited a moment and then went on +earnestly and with a garrulousness that amazed him: "I don't keer +whut he's done that ain't right, er whut people is goin' to say about +him, he's allus been nice to me. I guess mebby you air a-wonderin' +why I tole Ike Stain about him figgerin' on carryin' Miss Gwyn +away. That don't look very friendly, I guess. Hit wuzn't beca'se +I thought I might git him fer myself some time,--no, hit wuzn't +that, Mr. Gwynne. I ain't setch a fool as to think he could ever +want to be sparkin' me. I reckon Ike Stain tole ye I wuz jealous. +Well, I wuzn't, I declare to goodness I wuzn't. Hit wuz beca'se I +jest couldn't 'low her to git married to him, knowin' whut I do. I +wuz tryin' to make up my mind to go an' see her some time an' tell +her not to marry him, but I jest couldn't seem to git the spunk to +do it. She used to come to see me when I wuz sick last winter an' +she wuz mighty nice to me. + +"First thing I know, him an' Pap begin to fix up this plan to +carry her off. So I started up to town to tell her. I got as fer +as Ike's when I figgered I better let him do it, him bein' a man, +so I drapped in at his cabin an' tole him. I didn't know whut else +to do. I had to stop 'em from doin' it somehow. Hit wouldn't do no +good fer me to beg Pap to drap it, er to rare up on my hind-legs +an' make threats ag'inst 'em,--ca'se they'd soon put a stop to that. +Course I had it all figgered out whut I wuz goin' to do when thet +pack o' rascals got caught tryin' to steal her,--some of 'em shot, +like as not,--and I didn't much keer whuther my Pap wuz one of 'em +er not. + +"I knowed where Mr. Lapelle wuz to meet 'em down the river acrosst +from Le Grange, so I was figgerin' on findin' him there an' +tellin' him whut had happened an' fer him to make his escape down +the river while he had setch a good start. I wuzn't goin' to let +him be ketched an' at the same time I wuzn't goin' to let anything +happen to Miss Violy Gwyn ef I could help it. I--I sort of figgered it +out as a good way to help both o' my friends, Mr. Gwynne, an'--an' +then this here thing happened. I want Mr. Lapelle to git away +safe,--ca'se I know whut Pap's goin' to do. He's goin' to blat out +a lot o' things. He says he's sure Mr. Lapelle put Mrs. Gwyn up to +havin' him arrested." + +"I think you may rest easy, Moll," said he, a trifle grimly. "Mr. +Lapelle had an engagement with me for to-morrow morning, but I'll +stake my life he will not be here to keep it." + +"All right," she said, satisfied. "Ef you say so, Mr. Gwynne, I'll +believe it. Whut do you think they'll do to Pap?" + +"He will probably get a dose of the whipping-post, for one thing." + +She grinned. "Gosh, I wish I could be some'eres about so's I could +see it," she cried. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CHALLENGE AND RETORT + + +Kenneth could hardly contain himself until the time came for him +to go home for his noon-day meal. Try as he would, he could not +divorce his thoughts from the trouble that had come to Viola. The +sinister tragedy in Martin Hawk's cabin was as nothing compared to +the calamity that had befallen the girl he loved, for Moll Hawk's +troubles would pass like a whiff of the wind while Viola's would +endure to the end of time,--always a shadow hanging over her brightest +day, a cloud that would not vanish. Out of the silence had come a +murmur more desolating than the thunderbolt with all its bombastic +fury; out of the silence had come a voice that would go on forever +whispering into her ear an unlovely story. + +A crowd still hung about the jail and small, ever-shifting groups +held sober discourse in front of business places. He hurried by them +and struck off up the road, his mind so intent upon what lay ahead +of him that he failed to notice that Jack Trentman had detached +himself from the group in front of the undertaker's and was following +swiftly after him. He was nearly half-way home when he turned, in +response to a call from behind, and beheld the gambler. + +"I'd like a word with you, Mr. Gwynne," drawled Jack. + +"I am in somewhat of a hurry, Mr.--" + +"I'll walk along with you, if you don't mind," said the other, +coming up beside him. "I'm not in the habit of beating about the +bush. When I've got anything to do, I do it without much fiddling. +Barry Lapelle is down at my place. He has asked me to represent him +in a little controversy that seems to call for physical adjudication. +How will day after to-morrow at five in the morning suit you?" + +"Perfectly," replied Kenneth stiffly. "Convey my compliments to +Mr. Lapelle and say to him that I overlook the irregularity and +will be glad to meet him at any time and any place." + +"I know it's irregular," admitted Mr. Trentman, with an apologetic +wave of the hand, "but he was in some doubt as to who might have +the honour to act for you, Mr. Gwynne, so he suggested that I come +to you direct. If you will oblige me with the name of the friend +who is to act as your second, I will make a point of apologizing +for having accosted you in this manner, and also perfect the details +with him." + +"I haven't given the matter a moment's thought," said Kenneth, +frowning. "Day after to-morrow morning, you say?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can't you arrange it for to-morrow morning?" + +Mr. Trentman spread out his hands in a deprecatory manner. "In +view of the fact that you are expected to appear in court at nine +to-morrow morning to defend an unfortunate girl, Mr. Lapelle feels +that he would be doing your client a very grave injustice if he +killed her lawyer--er--a trifle prematurely, you might say. He has +confided to me that he is the young woman's friend and can't bear +the thought of having her chances jeopardized by--" + +"Pardon me, Mr. Trentman," interrupted Kenneth shortly. "Both of you +are uncommonly thoughtful and considerate. Now that I am reminded +of my pleasant little encounter with Mr. Lapelle this morning, +I am constrained to remark that I have had all the satisfaction I +desire. You may say to him that I am a gentleman and not in the +habit of fighting duels with horse-thieves." + +Mr. Trentman started. His vaunted aplomb sustained a sharp spasm +that left him with a slightly fallen jaw. + +"Am I to understand, sir, that you are referring to my friend as +a horse-thief?" he demanded, bridling. + +"I merely asked you to take that message to him," said Kenneth +coolly. "I might add cattle-thief, sheep-stealer, hog-thief or--" + +"Why, good God, sir," gasped Mr. Trentman, "he'd shoot you down +like a dog if I--" + +"You may also tell Mr. Lapelle that his bosom friend Martin Hawk +is in jail." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Does Lapelle know that Martin is in jail?" + +"Certainly,--and he says he ought to be hung. That's what he thinks +of Hawk. A man that would sell his own--" + +"Hawk is in jail for stock-stealing, Mr. Trentman." + +"What's that got to do with the case? What's that got to do with +your calling my friend a horse-thief?" + +"A whole lot, sir. You will probably find out before the day is +over that you are harbouring and concealing a thief down there in +your shanty, and you may thank Martin Hawk for the information in +case you prefer not to accept the word of a gentleman. If you were +to come to me as a client seeking counsel, I should not hesitate to +advise you,--as your lawyer,--that there is a law against harbouring +criminals and that you are laying yourself open to prosecution." + +Trentman dubiously felt of his chin. + +"Being well versed in the law," he said, "I suppose you realize +that Mr. Lapelle can recover heavy damages against you in case what +you have said to me isn't true." + +"Perfectly. Therefore, I repeat to you that I cannot engage in an +affair of honour with a thief. I knocked him down this morning, but +that was in the heat of righteous anger. For fear that your report +to him may lead Mr. Lapelle to construe my refusal to meet him day +after to-morrow morning as cowardice on my part, permit me to make +this request of you. Please say to him that I shall arm myself with +a pistol as soon as I have reached my house, and that I expect to +be going about the streets of Lafayette as usual." + +"I see," said Mr. Trentman, after a moment. "You mean you'll be +ready for him in case he hunts you up." + +"Exactly." + +"By the way, Mr. Gwynne, have you ever fought a duel?" + +"No." + +"Would it interest you to know that Mr. Lapelle has engaged in +several, with disastrous results to his adversaries?" + +"I think he has already mentioned something of the kind to me." + +"I'd sooner be your friend than your enemy, Mr. Gwynne," said the +gambler earnestly. "I am a permanent citizen of this town and I +have no quarrel with you. As your friend, I am obliged to inform +you that Barry Lapelle is a dead shot and as quick as lightning +with a pistol. I hope you will take this in the same spirit that +it is given." + +"I thank you, sir," said Kenneth, courteously. "By the way, do you +happen to have a pistol with you at present, Mr. Trentman?" + +The other looked at him keenly for a few seconds before answering. +"I have. I seldom go without one." + +"If you will do me the kindness to walk with me up to the woods +beyond the lake and will grant me the loan of your weapon for half +a minute, I think I may be able to demonstrate to you that Mr. +Lapelle is not the only dead shot in the world. I was brought up +with a pistol in my hand, so to speak. Have you ever tried to shoot +a ground squirrel at twenty paces? You have to be pretty quick to +do that, you know." + +Trentman shook his head. "There's a lot of difference between +shooting a ground squirrel and blazing away at a man who is blazing +away at you at the same time. I'll take your word for the ground +squirrel business, Mr. Gwynne, and bid you good day." + +"My regrets to your principal and my apologies to you, Mr. Trentman," +said Kenneth, lifting his hat. + +The gambler raised his own hat. A close observer would have noticed +a troubled, anxious gleam in his eye as he turned to retrace his +steps in the direction of the square. It was his custom to saunter +slowly when traversing the streets of the town, as one who produces +his own importance and enjoys it leisurely. He never hurried. He +loitered rather more gracefully when walking than when standing +still. But now he strode along briskly,--in fact, with such lively +decision that for once in his life he appeared actually to be going +somewhere. As he rounded the corner and came in sight of the jail, +he directed a fixed, consuming glare upon the barred windows; a quite +noticeable scowl settled upon his ordinarily unruffled brow,--the +scowl of one searching intently, even apprehensively. + +He was troubled. His composure was sadly disturbed. Kenneth Gwynne +had given him something to think about,--and the more he thought +about it the faster he walked. He was perspiring quite freely and +he was a little short of breath when he flung open the door and +entered his "den of iniquity" down by the river. He took in at a +glance the three men seated at a table in a corner of the somewhat +commodious "card-room." One of them was dealing "cold hands" to +his companions. A fourth man, his dealer, was leaning against the +window frame, gazing pensively down upon the slow-moving river. +Two of the men at the table were newcomers in town. They had come +up on the _Revere_ and they had already established themselves +in his estimation as "skeletons"; that is, they had been picked +pretty clean by "buzzards" in other climes before gravitating to +his "boneyard." He considered himself a good judge of men, and he +did not like the looks of this ill-favoured pair. He had made up +his mind that he did not want them hanging around the "shanty"; men +of that stripe were just the sort to give the place a bad name! +One of them had recalled himself to Barry Lapelle the night before; +said he used to work for a trader down south or somewhere. + +Without the ceremony of a knock on the door, Mr. Trentman entered +a room at the end of the shanty, and there he found Lapelle reclining +on a cot. Two narrow slits in a puffed expanse of purple grading +off to a greenish yellow indicated the position of Barry's eyes. +The once resplendent dandy was now a sorry sight. + +"Say," began Trentman, after he had closed the door, "I want to +know just how things stand with you and Martin Hawk. No beating +about the bush, Barry. I want the truth and nothing else." + +Barry raised himself on one elbow and peered at his host. "What +are you driving at, Jack?" he demanded, throatily. + +"Are you mixed up with him in this stock-running business?" + +"Well, that's a hell of a question to ask a--" + +"It's easy to answer. Are you?" + +"Certainly not,--and I ought to put a bullet through you for asking +such an insulting question." + +"He's in jail, charged with stealing sheep and calves, and he's +started to talk. Now, look here, Lapelle, I'm your friend, but if +you are mixed up in this business the sooner you get out of here +the better it will suit me. Wait a minute! I've got more to say. I +know you're planning to go down on the boat to-morrow, but I don't +believe it's soon enough. I've seen Gwynne. He says in plain English +that he won't fight a duel with a horse-thief. He must have some +reason for saying that. He has been employed as Moll Hawk's lawyer. +She's probably been talking, too. I've been thinking pretty hard +the last ten minutes or so, and I'm beginning to understand why you +wanted me to arrange the duel for day after to-morrow when you knew +you were leaving town on the _Revere_ in the morning. You were trying +to throw Gwynne off the track. I thought at first it was because +you were afraid to fight him, but now I see things differently. I'll +be obliged to you if you'll come straight out and tell me what's +in the air. I'm a square man and I like to know whether I'm dealing +with square men or not." + +Lapelle sat up suddenly on the edge of the bed. Somehow, it seemed +to Trentman, the greenish yellow had spread lightly over the rest +of his face. + +"You say Martin's in jail for stealing?" he asked, gripping the +corn-husk bedtick with tense, nervous fingers, "and not in connection +with the killing of Suggs?" + +"Yep. And I sort of guess you'll be with him before you're much +older, if Gwynne knows what he's--" + +"I've got to get out of this town to-night, Jack," cried the younger +man, starting to his feet. "Understand, I'm not saying I am mixed +up in any way with Hawk and his crowd, but--but I've got important +business in Attica early to-morrow morning. That's all you can get +me to say. I'll sneak up the back road to the tavern and pack my +saddle-bags this afternoon, and I'll leave money with you to settle +with Johnson. I may have to ask you to fetch my horse down here--" + +"Just a minute," broke in Trentman, who had been regarding him +with hard, calculating eyes. "If it's as bad as all this, I guess +you'd better not wait till to-night. It may be too late,--and +besides I don't want the sheriff coming down here and jerking you +out of my place. You don't need to tell me anything more about +your relations with Hawk. I'm no fool, Barry. I know now that you +are mixed up in this stock-stealing business that's been going on +for months. It don't take a very smart brain to grasp the situation. +You've probably been making a pretty good thing out of moving +this stuff down the river on your boats, and--Now, don't get up on +your ear, my friend! No use trying to bamboozle me. You're scared +stiff,--and that's enough for me. And you've got a right to be. +This will put an end to your company's boats coming up here for +traffic,--it will kill you deader'n a doornail so far as business +is concerned. So you'd better get out at once. I never liked you +very much anyhow and now I've got no use for you at all. Just to +save my own skin and my own reputation as a law-abiding citizen, +I'll help you to get away. Now, here's what I'll do. I'll send up +and get your horse and have him down here inside of fifteen minutes. +There's so darned much excitement up in town about this murder +that nobody's going to notice you for the time being. And besides +a lot of farmers from over west are coming in, scared half to death +about Black Hawk's Indians. They'll be out looking for you before +long, your lordship, and it won't be for the purpose of inviting +you to have a drink. They'll probably bring a rail along with +'em, so's you'll at least have the consolation of riding up to the +calaboose. You'll--" + +"Oh, for God's sake!" grated Barry, furiously. "Don't try to be +comical, Trentman. This is no time to joke,--or preach either. Give +me a swig of--" + +"Nope! No whiskey, my friend," said the gambler firmly. "Whiskey +always puts false courage into a man, and I don't want you to +be doing anything foolish. I'll have your mare Fancy down here in +fifteen minutes, saddled and everything, and you will hop on her and +ride up the street, right past the court house, just as if you're +out for an hour's canter for your health. You will not have +any saddle-bags or traps. You'll ride light, my friend. That will +throw 'em off the track. But what I want you to do as soon as you +get out the other side of the tanyard is to turn in your saddle and +wave a last farewell to the Star City. You might throw a kiss at +it, too, while you're about it. Because you've got a long journey +ahead of you and you're not coming back,--that is, unless they +overtake you. There's some pretty fast horses in this town, as +you may happen to remember. So I'd advise you to get a good long +start,--and keep it." + +If Lapelle heard all of this he gave no sign, for he had sidled +over to the little window and was peering obliquely through the +trees toward the road that led from the "shanty" toward the town. +Suddenly he turned upon the gambler, a savage oath on his lips. + +"You bet I'll come back! And when I do, I'll give this town something +to talk about. I'll make tracks now. It's the only thing to do. +But I'm not licked--not by a long shot, Jack Trentman. I'll be back +inside of--" + +"I'll make you a present of a couple of pistols a fellow left with +me for a debt a month or so ago. You may need 'em," said Trentman +blandly. "Better get ready to start. I'll have the horse here in +no time." + +"You're damned cold-blooded," growled Barry, pettishly. + +"Yep," agreed the other. "But I'm kind-hearted." + +He went out, slamming the door behind him. Twenty minutes later, +Barry emerged from the "shanty" and mounted his sleek, restless +thoroughbred. Having recovered, for purposes of deception, his +lordly, cock-o'-the-walk attitude toward the world, he rode off +jauntily in the direction of the town, according Trentman the scant +courtesy of a careless wave of the hand at parting. He had counted +his money, examined the borrowed pistols, and at the last moment +had hurriedly dashed off a brief letter to Kenneth Gwynne, to be +posted the following day by the avid though obliging Mr. Trentman. + +Stifling his rancour and coercing his vanity at the same time, he +cantered boldly past the Tavern, bitterly aware of the protracted +look of amazement that interrupted the conversation of some of the +most influential citizens of the place as at least a score of eyes +fell upon his battered visage. Pride and rage got the better of +him. He whirled Fancy about with a savage jerk and rode back to +the group. + +"Take a good look, gentlemen," he snapped out, his eyes gleaming +for all the world like two thin little slivers of red-hot iron. +"The coward who hit me before I had a chance to defend myself has +just denied me the satisfaction of a duel. I sent him a challenge +to fight it out with pistols day after to-morrow morning. He is +afraid to meet me. The challenge still stands. If you should see +Mr. Gwynne, gentlemen, between now and Friday morning, do me the +favour to say to him that I will be the happiest man on earth if +he can muster up sufficient courage to change his mind. Good day, +gentlemen." + +With this vainglorious though vicarious challenge to an absent +enemy, he touched the gad to Fancy's flank and rode away, his head +erect, his back as stiff as a ramrod, leaving behind him a staring +group whose astonishment did not give way to levity until he was +nearing the corner of the square. He cursed softly under his breath +at the sound of the first guffaw; he subdued with difficulty a wild, +reckless impulse to turn in the saddle and send a shot or two at +them. But this was no time for folly,--no time to lose his head. + +Out of the corner of his eye he took in the jail and the group of +citizens on the court house steps. Something seemed to tell him +that these men were saying, "There he goes,--stop him! He's getting +away!" They were looking at him; of that he was subtly conscious, +although he managed to keep his eyes set straight ahead. Only the +most determined effort of the will kept him from suddenly putting +spur to the mare. Afterwards he complimented himself on his remarkable +self-control, and laughed as he likened his present alarm to that +of a boy passing a graveyard at night. Nevertheless, he was now +filled with an acute, very real sense of anxiety and apprehension; +every nerve was on edge. + +It was all very well for Jack Trentman to say that this was the +safest, most sensible way to go about it, but had Jack ever been +through it himself? At any moment Martin Hawk might catch a glimpse +of him through the barred window of the jail and let out a shout +of warning; at any moment the sheriff himself might dash out of +the court house with a warrant in his hand,--and then what? He had +the chill, uneasy feeling that they would be piling out after him +before he could reach the corner of the friendly thickets at the +lower end of the street. + +A pressing weight seemed to slide off his shoulders and neck +as Fancy swung smartly around the bend into the narrow wagon-road +that stretched its aimless way through the scrubby bottom-lands and +over the ridge to the open sweep of the plains beyond. Presently +he urged the mare to a rhythmic lope, and all the while his ears +were alert for the thud of galloping horses behind. It was not until +he reached the table-land to the south that he drove the rowels +into the flanks of the swift four-year-old and leaned forward in +the saddle to meet the rush of the wind. Full well he knew that +given the start of an hour no horse in the county could catch his +darling Fancy! + +And so it was that Barry Lapelle rode out of the town of Lafayette, +never to return again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +IN AN UPSTAIRS ROOM + + +It was characteristic of Rachel Carter that she should draw the +window curtains aside in Viola's bedroom, allowing the pitiless +light of day to fall upon her face as she seated herself to make +confession. She had come to the hour when nothing was to be hidden +from her daughter, least of all the cheek that was to be smitten. + +The girl sat on the edge of the bed, her elbow on the footboard, +her cheek resting upon her hand. Not once did she take her eyes +from the grey, emotionless face of the woman who sat in the light. + +In course of time, Rachel Carter came to the end of her story. She +had made no attempt to justify herself, had uttered no word of +regret, no signal of repentance, no plea for forgiveness. The cold, +unfaltering truth, without a single mitigating alloy in the shape +of sentiment, had issued from her tired but unconquered soul. She +went through to the end without being interrupted by the girl, +whose silence was eloquent of a strength and courage unsurpassed +even by this woman from whom she had, after all, inherited both. +She did not flinch, she did not cringe as the twenty-year-old truth +was laid bare before her. She was made of the same staunch fibre +as her mother, she possessed the indomitable spirit that stiffens +and remains unyielding in the face of calamity. + +"Now you know everything," said Rachel Carter wearily. "I have +tried to keep it from you. But the truth will out. It is God's law. +I would have spared you if I could. You are of my flesh and blood, +you are a part of me. There has never been an instant in all these +hard, trying years when I have not loved and cherished you as the +gift that no woman, honest or dishonest, can despise. You will know +what that means when you have a child of your own, and you will +never know it until that has come to pass. You may cast me out of +your heart, Viola, but you cannot tear yourself out of mine. So! +I have spoken. There is no more." + +She turned her head to look out of the window. Viola did not move. +Presently the older woman spoke again. "Your name is Minda Carter. +You will be twenty-two years old next September. You have no right +to the name of Gwynne. The boy who lives in that house over yonder +is the only one who has a right to it. But his birthright is no +cleaner than yours. You can look him in the face without shame to +yourself, because your father was an honest man and your mother +was his loyal, faithful wife,--and Kenneth Gwynne can say no more +than that." + +"Nor as much," burst from the girl's lips with a fervour that +startled her mother. "His father was not a loyal, faithful husband, +nor was he an honest man or he would have married you." + +She was on her feet now, her body bent slightly, forward, her +smouldering eyes fixed intently upon her; mother's face. + +Rachel Carter stared incredulously. Something in Viola's eyes, in +the ring of her voice caused her heart to leap. + +"I was his wife in the eyes of God," she began, but something rushed +up into her throat and seemed to choke her. + +"And you have told Kenneth all this?" cried Viola, a light as of +understanding flooding her eyes. "He knows? How long has he known?" + +"I--I can't remember. Some of it for weeks, some of it only since +last night." + +"Ah!" There was a world of meaning in the cry. Even as she uttered +it she seemed to feel his arms about her and the strange thrill +that had charged through her body from head to foot. She sat down +again on the edge of the bed; a dark wave of colour surging to her +cheek and brow. + +"I am waiting," said her mother, after a moment. Her voice was +steady. "It is your turn to speak, my child." + +Viola came to her side. + +"Mother," she began, a deep, full note in her voice, "I want you +to let me sit in your lap, with your arms around me. Like when I +was a little girl." + +Rachel lifted her eyes; and as the girl looked down into them +the hardness of years melted away and they grew wondrous soft and +gentle. + +"Is this your verdict?" she asked solemnly. + +"Yes," was the simple response. + +"You do not cast me out of your heart? Remember, in the sight of +man, I am an evil woman." + +"You are my mother. You did not desert me. You would not leave me +behind. You have loved me since the day I was born. You will never +be an evil woman in my eyes. Hold me in your lap, mother dear. I +shall always feel safe then." + +Rachel's lips and chin quivered.... A long time afterward the girl +gently disengaged herself from the strong, tense embrace and rose +to her feet. + +"You say that Kenneth hates you," she said, "and you say that you +do not blame him. Is it right and fair that he should hate you any +more than I should hate his father?" "Yes," replied Rachel Carter, +"it is right and fair. I was his mother's best friend. His father +did not betray his best friend as I did, for my husband was dead. +There is a difference, my child." + +Viola shook her head stubbornly. "I don't see why the woman must +always be crucified and the man allowed to go his way--" + +"It is no use, Viola," interrupted Rachel, rising. Her face +had hardened again. "We cannot change the ways of the world." She +crossed the room, but stopped with her hand on the door-latch. +Turning to her daughter, she said: "Whatever Kenneth may think of +me, he has the greatest respect and admiration for you. He bears +no grudge against Minda Carter. On the contrary, he has shown that +he would lay down his life for you. You must bear no grudge against +him. You and he are children who have walked in darkness for twenty +years, but now you have come to a place where there is light. See +to it, Viola, that you are as fair to him as you would have him be +to you. You stand on common ground with the light of understanding +all about you. Do not turn your backs upon each other. Face one +another. It is the only way." + +Viola's eyes flashed. She lifted her chin. + +"I am not ashamed to look Kenneth Gwynne in the face," said she, +a certain crispness in her voice. Then, with a quick change to +tenderness, "You are so tired, mother. Won't you lie down and sleep +awhile?" + +"After I have eaten something. Come downstairs. I want to hear +what happened here this morning. Kenneth told me very little and +you have done nothing but ask questions of me." + +"Did he tell you that he struck Barry Lapelle?" + +"No." + +"Or how near I came to shooting him?" + +"Merciful heaven!" "Well, I guess Barry won't rest till he has told +the whole town what we are,--and then we'll have to face something +cruel, mother. But we will face it together." + +She put her arm about her mother's shoulders and they went down +the narrow staircase together. + +"It will not cost me a single friend, Viola," remarked Rachel +grimly. "I have none to lose. But with you it will be different." + +"We don't have to stay in the old town," said Viola bravely. "The +world is large. We can move on. Just as we used to before we came +here to live. Always moving on, we were." + +Rachel shook her head. They were at the bottom of the stairs. + +"I will not move on. This is where I intend to live and die. The +man I lived for is up yonder in the graveyard. I will not go away +and leave him now,--not after all these years. But you, my child, +you must move on. You have something else to live for. I have +nothing. But I can hold my head up, even here. You will not find +it so easy. You will--" + +"It will be as easy for me as it will for Kenneth Gwynne," broke in +the girl. "Wait and see which one of us runs away first. It won't +be me." + +"He will not go away and leave you," said Rachel Carter. + +Viola gave her a quick, startled look. They were in the kitchen, +however, before she spoke. Then it was to say: + +"Now I understand why I have never been able to think of him as my +brother." That, and nothing more; there was an odd, almost frightened +expression in her eyes. + +She got breakfast for her mother, Hattie having been sent down +into the town by her mistress immediately upon her return home, +ostensibly to make a few purchases but actually for the purpose of +getting rid of her. Viola, in relating the story of the morning's +events, was careful to avoid using the harshest of Barry's terms, +but earnestly embellished the account of Kenny's interference with +some rather formidable expressions of her own, putting them glibly +into the mouth of her champion. Once her mother interrupted her to +inquire: + +"Did Kenneth actually use those words, Viola? 'Pusillanimous +varlet,'--and 'mendacious scalawag'? It does not sound like Kenneth." + +Viola had the grace to blush guiltily. "No, he didn't. He swore +harder than anybody I've ever--" + +"That's better," said Rachel, somewhat sternly. + +Later on they sat on the little front porch, where the older woman, +with scant recourse to the graphic, narrated the story of Moll +Hawk. Pain and horror dwelt in Viola's wide, lovely eyes. + +"Oh, poor, poor Moll," she murmured at the end of the wretched tale. +"She has never known a mother's love, or a mother's care. She has +never had a chance." + +Then Rachel Carter said a strange thing. "When all this is over +and she is free, I intend to offer her a home here with me." + +The girl stared, open-mouthed. "With you? Here with us?" + +"You will not always be here with me," said her mother. "How can +you say such a thing?" with honest indignation. Then quickly: "I +know I planned to run off and leave you a little while ago, but +that was before I came to know how much you need me." + +Rachel experienced one of her rare smiles. "And before you came to +know Kenneth Gwynne," she said. "No, my dear, the time is not far +off when you will not need a mother. Moll Hawk needs one now. I +shall try to be a mother to that hapless girl." + +Viola looked at her, the little line of perplexity deepening between +her eyes. + +"Somehow it seems to me that I am just beginning to know my own +mother," she said. + +A bluejay, sweeping gracefully out over the tree-tops, came to +rest upon a lofty bough in the grove across the road. They sat for +a long time without speaking, these two women, watching him preen +and prink, a bit of lively blue against the newborn green. Then he +flew away. He "moved on,"--a passing symbol. + +How simple, how easy it was for this bright, gay vagabond to return +to the silence from which he had come. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MINDA CARTER + + +Viola was alone on the porch when Kenneth came into view at the bend +in the road. He had chuckled more than once after parting from the +gambler; a mental vision of the inwardly agitated though outwardly +bland Mr. Trentman making tracks as fast as his legs would carry +him to warn Lapelle of his peril afforded him no small amount of +satisfaction. If he knew his man,--and he thought he did,--Barry +would lose no time in shaking the dust of Lafayette from his feet. +The thought of that had sent his spirits up. He went even farther +in his reflections and found himself hoping that Barry's flight +might be so precipitous that he would not have the opportunity to +disclose his newfound information concerning Rachel Carter. + +He was nearing his own gate before he saw Viola, seated on the +porch. Involuntarily he slackened his pace. A sort of panic seized +him. Was she waiting there to question him? He experienced a sudden +overwhelming dismay. What was he to say to her? How was he to face +the unhappy, stricken,--but even as he contemplated a cowardly +retreat, she arose and came swiftly down the path. He groaned +inwardly. There was no escape. + +Now, as he hesitated uncertainly at his own gate, his heart in his +boots, she serenely beckoned to him. + +"I want to see you, Kenny," she called out. + +This was no stricken, unhappy creature who approached him. Her +figure was proudly erect; she walked briskly; there was no trace +of shame or humiliation in her face; if anything, she was far more +at ease than he. + +"I want to thank you," she said calmly, "for what you did this +morning. Not only for what you did to him but for keeping me from +shooting him." She held out her hand, but lowered it instantly +when she saw that his own was rather significantly hidden inside +the breast of his coat. A look of pain fluttered across her eyes. + +"Where is your mother?" he asked lamely. + +She seemed to read his thoughts. "Mother and I have talked it all +over, Kenneth. She has told me everything." + +"Oh, you poor darling!" he cried. + +"Don't waste any sympathy on me," she retorted, coldly. "I don't +want it. Not from Robert Gwynne's son at any rate." + +He was now looking at her steadily. "I see. You don't care for the +breed, is that it?" + +"Kenny," she began, a solemn note in her voice, "there is no reason +why you and I should hurt each other. If I hurt you just now I am +sorry. But I meant what I said. I do not want the pity of Robert +Gwynne's son any more than you want to be pitied by the daughter +of Rachel Carter. We stand on even terms. I just want you to know +that my heart is as stout as yours and that my pride is as strong." + +He bowed his head. "All my life I have thought of my father as a +Samson who was betrayed by a Delilah. I have never allowed myself +to think of him as anything but great and strong and good. I grew +to man's estate still believing him to be the victim of an evil +woman. I am not in the ordinary sense a fool and yet I have been +utterly without the power to reason. My eyes have been opened, +Viola. I am seeing with a new vision. I have more to overlook, more +to forgive in my father than you have in your mother. I speak plainly, +because I hope this is to be the last time we ever touch upon the +subject. You, at least, have grown up to know the enduring love +of a mother. She did not leave you behind. She was not altogether +heartless. That is all I can say, all I shall ever say, even to +you, about my father." + +He spoke with such deep feeling and yet so simply that her heart +was touched. A wistful look came into her eyes. + +"I am still bewildered by it all, Kenny," she said. "In the wink +of an eye, everything is altered. I am not Viola Gwyn. I am Minda +Carter. I am not your half-sister. You seem suddenly to have gone +very far away from me. It hurts me to feel that we can never be the +same toward each other that we were even this morning. I had come +to care for you as a brother. Now you are a stranger. I--I loved +being your sister and--and treating you as if you were my brother. +Now all that is over." She sighed deeply. + +"Yes," he said gently, "all that is over for you, Viola. But I have +known for many weeks that you are not my sister." + +"I bear no grudge against you," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. +"My heart is bitter toward the man I have always looked upon as my +father. But it does not contain one drop of bitterness toward you. +What matters if I have walked in darkness and you in the light? +We were treading the same path all the time. Now we meet and know +each other for what we really are. The path is not wide enough for +us to walk beside each other without our garments touching. Are we +to turn back and walk the other way so that our unclean garments +may not touch?" + +"For heaven's sake, Viola," he cried in pain, "what can have put +such a thought into your head? Have I ever said or done anything +to cause you to think I--" + +"You must not forget that you can walk by yourself, Kenny. Your +father is dead. The world is kind enough to let the dead rest in +peace. But it gives no quarter to the living. My mother walks with +me, Kenneth Gwynne. The world, when it knows, will throw stones +at her. That means it will have to throw stones at me. She did not +abandon me. I shall not abandon her. She sinned,"--here her lip +trembled,--"and she has been left to pay the penalty alone. It +may sound strange to you, but my mother was also deserted by your +father. God let him die, but I can't help feeling that it wasn't +fair, it wasn't right for him to die and leave her to face this +all alone." + +"And you want to know where I stand in the matter?" + +"It makes no difference, Kenny. I only want you to understand. I +don't want to lose you as a friend,--I would like to have you stand +up and take your share of the--" + +"And that is just what I intend to do," he broke in. "We occupy +strange positions, Viola. We are,--shall I say birds of a feather? +This had to come. Now that it has come and you know all that I +know, are we to turn against each other because of what happened +when we were babies? We have done no wrong. I love you, Viola,--I +began loving you before I found out you were not my half-sister. +I will love you all my life. Now you know where I stand." + +She looked straight into his eyes for a long time; in her own there +was something that seemed to search his soul, something of wonder, +something groping and intense as if her own soul was asking a grave, +perplexing question. A faint, slow surge of colour stole into her +face. "I must go in the house now," she said, a queer little flutter +in her voice. "After dinner I am going down with mother to see Moll +Hawk. If--if you mean all that you have just said, Kenny, why did +you refuse to shake hands with me?" + +He withdrew his bruised right hand from its hiding-place. "It is +an ugly thing to look at but I am proud of it," he said. "I would +give it for you a thousand times over." + +"Oh, I'm--I'm sorry I misjudged you--" she cried out. Then both +of her hands closed on the unsightly member and pressed it gently, +tenderly. There was that in the touch of her firm, strong fingers +that sent an ecstatic shock racing into every fibre in his body. +"I will never question that hand again, Kenny," she said, and then, +releasing it, she turned and walked rapidly away. + +He stood watching her until she ran nimbly up the porch steps and +disappeared inside the house. Whereupon he lifted the swollen but +now blessed knuckles to his lips and sighed profoundly. + +"Something tells me she still loves Barry, in spite of everything," +he muttered, suddenly immersed in gloom. "Women stick through thick +and thin. If they once love a man they never--" + +"Dinner's ready, Marse Kenneth," announced Zachariah from the +door-step. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE FLIGHT OF MARTIN HAWK + + +Now, Martin Hawk was not a patient man. He waited till mid-afternoon +for some word from Barry Lapelle in response to his message, +and, receiving none,--(for the very good reason that it was never +delivered),--fell to blaspheming mightily, and before he was +through with it revealed enough to bring about an ultimate though +fruitless search for the departed "go-between." + +He was, however, careful to omit any mention of the _Paul Revere's_ +captain, remembering just in time that hardy riverman's promise +to blow his brains out if he even so much as breathed his name +in connection with certain nefarious transactions,--and something +told him that Cephas Redberry would put a short, sharp stop to +any breathing at all on his part the instant he laid eyes on him. +He was not afraid of Barry Lapelle but he was in deadly terror of +Redberry. The more he thought of Ceph being landed in the same +jail with him, the longer the goose feathers grew on his shrinking +spine. So he left the Captain out of it altogether,--indeed, he +gave him a perfectly clean bill of health. + +Along about dusk that evening a crowd began to collect in the +neighbourhood of the jail. Martin, peering from behind a barred +window, was not long in grasping the significance of this ominous +gathering. He was the only inmate of the "calaboose"; therefore, +he was in no doubt as to the identity of the person to whom so +many different terms of opprobrium were being applied by certain +loud-voiced citizens in the crowd. He also gathered from remarks +coming up to the window that the person referred to stood in grave +danger of being "skinned alive," "swung to a limb," "horsewhipped +till he can't stand," "rode on a rail," "ham-strung," "drownded," +"hung up by the thumbs," "dogged out o' town," "peppered with +bird-shot," "filled with buckshot," and numerous other unpleasant +alternatives, no one of which was conducive to the peace of mind. + +As the evening wore on, Martin became more and more convinced that +his life wasn't worth a pinch of salt, and so began to pray loudly +and lustily. The crowd had increased to alarming proportions. In +the light of torches and bonfires he recognized men from far-off +Grand Prairie, up to the northwest of town. Wagons rumbled past the +jail and court house and were lost in the darkness of the streets +beyond. He was astonished to see that most of these vehicles +contained women and children, and many of them were loaded high with +household goods. This, thought Martin, was the apex of attention. +People were coming from the four corners of the world to witness his +execution! Evidently it was to be an affair that every householder +thought his women-folk and the children ought to see. Some men might +have been gratified by all this interest, but not Martin. He began +to increase the fervor of his prayers by inserting, here and there, +hair-raising oaths,--not bravely or with the courage of the defiant, +but because all other words failed him in his extremity. + +He had no means of knowing, of course, that he was dividing +the honours, so to speak, with another and far more imposing +rascal,--the terrible Black Hawk. How was he to know, locked up in +jail, that all evening long panic-stricken people from the distant +and thinly-settled prairies were piling into town because of the +report that bands of Black Hawk's warriors had been seen by reputable +settlers along the upper edge of the Prairie? + +Like reports had been filtering into town for several days, but not +much credence had been given them. Indian scares were not uncommon, +and for the most part people had scoffed at them. But now there was +an actual threat from the powerful Black Hawk, whose headquarters +were up along the Rock River, in the northern part of Illinois. +The chieftain had at last thrown down the gauntlet; he had refused +to recognize the transfer of lands and rights as laid down by the +Government, and had openly announced his intention to fight. Already +troops from the forts were on the move, and there was talk of the +State militia being called out. Some of the leading spirits in +Lafayette had been moved to organize a local company. + +Naturally, Martin Hawk knew nothing of all this. He knew, through +Simon Braley, that Indian troubles were bound to come, but how was +he to know that red-skins in warpaint had been seen on the Grand +Prairie, or that he was not the only subject of conversation? All +he knew was that if the Lord didn't take a hand pretty soon he +would be--Well, it was useless to fix his mind on any particular +form of destruction, so many and so varied were the kinds being +disputatiously considered by the people in the street. + +Suddenly the sound of fife and drum smote upon his ear, coming from +somewhere up the street. He huddled down in a corner and began to +moan. He knew the meaning of that signal-call. They were organizing +for a rush upon the jail,--an irresistible, overwhelming charge that +would sweep all opposition before it. Then he heard the shuffling +of many feet, loud exclamations and an occasional cheer. Finally +he screwed up the courage for another cautious peep through the +bars. The crowd was moving off up the street. A small group remained +undecided near a bonfire in the court house yard. One of these men +held a long rope in his hand, and seemed argumentative. + +Martin listened with all ears, trying to catch what was being +said. What an infernal noise that fife and drum were making! At +last the little knot of men moved away from the fire, coming toward +the window. Martin, being a wary rascal, promptly ducked his head, +but kept his ears open. + +"It's a trick, that's what it is," he heard some one growl. "A +trick to get us away from the jail. They know we'll get him, sure +as God made little apples, so they've fixed this up to--" + +"Well, what if it is a trick?" broke in another. "It ain't going +to work. The crowd'll be back here again inside of ten minutes an' +all the sheriffs an' constables in the State can't stop us from +taking him out an' stringin' him up." + +"We might as well go and see what's up," said another. "I guess he's +where he'll keep. He'll be here when we come back, Bill. He can't +get out till we open the door, so what's the use cussin' about ten +or fifteen minutes' delay? Come on! I don't take any stock in this +talk about Indians, but, great snakes, if they want to get up a +company to go out and--" + +The rest of the remark was lost to Martin when the group turned +the corner of the jail. + +"Ten or fifteen minutes," he groaned. In ten or fifteen minutes the +whole town would be out there, breaking down the door--the work of +a few seconds. He remembered hearing people laugh and joke about +the new jail. No less a person than Cap' Redberry had said, after +a casual inspection of the calaboose, that if THAT was what they +called a jail he'd hate to be inside of it if a woodpecker started +to peckin' at it, 'cause if such a thing happened the whole blamed +she-bang would cave in and like as not hurt him considerable. And +Cap' was not the only one who spoke derisively of the new jail. Ed +Bloker declared he had quit walkin' past it on his way home from +the grocery because he was in mortal terror of staggerin' up against +it and knockin' it all to smash. Of course, Martin knew that it +was not as bad as all that, but, even so, it could not hold out +for more than a minute if some one began pounding at the door with +a sledge-hammer. + +There were two rooms, or compartments, to the jail; a little +ante-room and the twelve-by-sixteen foot "cage," of which he was +the sole occupant. A single cornhusk mattress had been put in for +him that afternoon. He never seemed quite able to fix its position +in his mind, a circumstance that caused him to stumble over it time +and again as he tramped restlessly about the place in the darkness. + +Suddenly he stopped as if shot. A tremendous idea struck him, and +for a moment his head spun dizzily. If it was so blamed easy to +break into the jail, why should it be so all-fired difficult to +break out of it? Why, he hadn't even tried the door, or the bars +in the window; now that he thought of it, the grate in the south +window had appeared to be a little shaky. Inspired by a wild, +alluring hope, he sprang over to the window and gripped the thin +iron bars; with all his might and main he jerked, bracing his feet +against the wall. No use! It would come just so far and no farther. +He tried the other window, with even less encouraging results. In +eight or ten minutes now, the crowd would be,--he leaped to the +barred door. It, too, resisted his crazy strength. The huge padlock +on the other side clattered tauntingly against the grating, but that +was all. All the while he was grunting and whining: "If I ever get +out of this, it'll take a streak o' greased lightnin' to ketch me. +Oh, Lordy! That drum's gettin' closer! They're comin'! If I ever +get out of this, nobody'll ever see me closer'n a hundred mile +o' this here town,--never as long as I live. Gimme a half hour's +start an'--Jehosophat!" + +He had shoved a trembling hand between the bars and was fumbling +with the padlock. His ejaculation was due to a most incredible +discovery. Some one had forgotten to take the key out of the padlock! +He laughed shrilly, witlessly. Twenty seconds later he was out in +the little anteroom or vestibule, panting and still chortling. The +outer door opened readily to the lifting of the latch. He peeped +out cautiously, warily. The square was deserted save for a few men +hurrying along the street toward the drill ground up beyond Horton's +tanyard,--where the drum and fife were playing and men were shouting +loudly. + +Thereupon Martin Hawk did the incomprehensible thing. He squared his +brawny shoulders, set his hat rakishly over one ear, and sauntered +out of the jail, calmly stopping to latch the door--and even to +rattle it to make sure that it had caught! + +He was far too cunning to dart around the corner and bolt for +safety. That would have been the worst kind of folly. Instead, he +strode briskly off in the direction from whence came the strains +of martial music! So much for the benefit of watchful, suspicious +eyes. But as he turned the corner of Baker's store his whole demeanour +changed. He was off like a frightened rabbit, and as soft-footedly. +He ran as the huntsman or the Indian runs,--almost soundlessly, like +the wind breezing over dead leaves or through the tops of reeds. +Three men stepped out from behind a wagon on the far side of the +square. The flare of a bonfire reached dimly to the corner around +which the fugitive had scurried. One of the men gave vent to a +subdued snort and then spat hurriedly and copiously. + +"We'll never see hide nor hair of him again," quoth he. "He won't +stop running till daybreak. I guess you'd better wait about ten +minutes, Jake, and then fire a few shots. That'll put new life +into him. Course, a lot of blamed fools will cuss the daylights +out of me for letting him get away right under my nose, and all +that, but let 'em talk. He's gone for good, you can bet on that,--and +the county's lucky to get rid of him so cheaply." + +"I guess you're right, Sheriff," agreed one of his companions. +"From all I hear, Mrs. Gwyn would have a hard time provin' it was +him as stole her--" + +"Supposin' she did prove it, what then?" broke in the high sheriff +of the bailiwick. "The county would have to feed him for a couple +of months or so and then turn him loose again to go right back to +stealing, same as before. The best way to punish a thief, accordin' +to my notion, is to keep him everlastingly on the jump, scared to +death to show his face anywheres and always hatin' to go to sleep +for fear he'll wake up and find somebody pointin' a pistol at him +and sayin,' 'Well, I got you at last, dang ye.' Besides, lockin' +Mart up isn't going to bring back Mrs. Gwyn's sheep, is it?" + +"When that gal of his tells her story in court to-morrow," advanced +the third member of the group, "there'll be plenty of people in +this town that won't be put off a second time by any fife and drum +shinanigan." + +"Anyhow," said the sheriff, "I didn't want to have the blamed skunk +on my mind while we're organizin' the company. It's bad enough +havin' to go out and fight Indians without worryin' all the time +I'm away about whether anybody back here has had sense enough to +keep Martin from starvin' to death. I guess we'd better mosey along +up to the drill ground, boys. Martin's got into the bushes by this +time, and if I'm any kind of a guesser he ain't dawdlin' along +smellin' every spring flower he comes across." + +"Don't you think you'd better go over an' take a look around the +jail first?" + +"What for? There ain't anybody in it." + +"No, but like as not the dog-gasted whelp run off with that padlock, +an' we'd ought to know it before he gets too big a start. Padlocks +cost money," explained the other, with a dry chuckle and a dig in +the sheriff's ribs. + +"So do prisoners," was the rejoinder of this remarkable sheriff. + +And thus it came to pass that between the sheriff and Kenneth Gwynne +and Moll Hawk, the county got rid of three iniquitous individuals. +One rode forth in broad daylight on a matchless thoroughbred; +another stole off like a weasel in the night, and the third took +passage on the Ship that Never Returns. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE TRIAL OF MOLL HAWK + + +The trial of Moll Hawk was a brief one. "Judge" Billings, as foreman +of the jury, asked permission of the Court to make a few remarks +before the taking of testimony began. + +"Your honour, this here jury got together last night and sort of +talked things over while Mr. Benbridge and other patriotic citizens +of Lafayette were engaged in organizing a number of noble and +brave-hearted gentlemen into a company of soldiers to give battle +to the bloodthirsty red man who is about to swoop down upon us, +with tommyhawk and knife and rifle, to ravage our lands and pillage +our women--er--I mean pillage our lands and--er--so forth. As I was +saying, your honour, we talked it over and seeing as how we have +all enlisted in Mr. Benbridge's troop and he sort of thought we'd +better begin drilling as soon as possible, and also seeing as +how this here trial is attractin' a good deal of attention at a +time when we ought to be thinkin' of the safety of our wives and +children,--if we have any,--we came to the conclusion to address +you, sir, with all respect, and suggest that you instruct the +counsel on both sides to be as lenient as possible with the jury. + +"This here innocent girl's father broke out of jail and got away. +As far as this here jury knows he ain't likely ever to come back, +so, for the time being at least, there don't seem to be anybody we +can hang for the crime with which the prisoner at the bar is charged. +This jury was picked with a great deal of care by the sheriff and +is, I am reliably informed, entirely satisfactory to both sides of +the case. + +"In view of the fact that Black Hawk's warriors are reported to +have been seen within twenty miles of our beautiful little city, and +also in view of the additional fact that Mrs. Rachel Gwyn, one of +our foremost citizens and taxpayers, has recently informed me,--and +your honour also, I believe, in my presence,--that she intends to +give this poor girl a home as soon as she is lawfully discharged by +the jury as not guilty, we, the jury, implore your honour to keep +an eye on the clock. As we understand the case, there were only +two witnesses to the killing of the villain against whom this young +woman fought so desperately in self-defence. One of 'em is here in +this courtroom. The other is dead and buried. It is now ten minutes +past nine. We, the jury, would like for you to inform the counsel +on both sides that at precisely ten o'clock we are going to render +a verdict, because at a quarter-past ten the majority of us have +to attend a company drill. The lawyer for the prisoner enlisted +last night as a private in our company, and so did the prosecuting +attorney." + +"This is a most unusual and unprecedented action on the part of a +jury," said the Court gravely. "However, in view of the extraordinary +circumstances, I feel that we should be as expeditious as possible +in disposing of the case on trial. Gentlemen, you have heard the +remarks of the foreman of the jury. Have either of you any reason +for objecting to the suggestion he has made? Very well, then; we +will proceed with the trial of Mary Hawk, charged with murder in +the first degree. Call your first witness, Mr. Prosecutor." + +The little courtroom was jammed to its capacity. Hundreds, unable to +gain admission, crowded about the entrance and filled the square. +The town was in the throes of a vast excitement, what with the +trial, the Indian uprising in the north, the escape of Martin Hawk +and the flight of Barry Lapelle, hitherto regarded as a rake but +not even suspected of actual dishonesty. The Paul Revere, with +Captain Redberry in charge, had got away at daybreak, loaded to +the rails with foot-loose individuals who suddenly had decided to +try their fortunes elsewhere rather than remain in a district likely +to be overrun by savages. + +Moll Hawk sat in front of the judge's table and at her side was +Kenneth Gwynne. Mrs. Gwyn and Viola occupied seats on a bench near +one of the windows, facing the jury. The prisoner was frightened. +She was stiff and uncomfortable in the new dress the sheriff's wife +had selected for her. Her black hair was neatly brushed and coiled +in two thick lobs which hung down over her ears. Her deep-set eyes +darted restlessly, even warily about her as she sat there in the +midst of this throng of strange, stern-faced men. Now and then they +went appealingly to Mrs. Gwyn or Viola or to the sheriff's wife, +and always they seemed to be asking: "What are they going to do to +me?" + +The prosecuting attorney, a young man of slender experience +but chivalrous instincts, solemnly announced that he had but two +witnesses to examine and then he was through. He called the undertaker +to the stand. + +"In as few words as possible, tell the jury who it was that you +buried yesterday afternoon." + +"Jasper Suggs." + +"Was he dead?" + +"He was." + +"That's all, your honour." + +"Any questions, Mr. Gwynne?" inquired the judge. + +"None, your honour." + +"Call your next witness, Mr. Prosecutor." + +"Mr. Sheriff, will you take the stand for a moment? Did you see +the defendant along about four o'clock yesterday morning?" + +"I did." + +"State where." + +"At her father's cabin." + +"State what had happened there prior to your arrival, if you know." + +"This defendant had had a little difficulty with the corpse, and +he was dead on the floor when we got there." + +"From a knife wound?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Who inflicted that wound, if you know?" + +"Miss Mary Hawk." + +"You are sure about that, Mr. Sheriff?" + +"Pos-i-tively." + +"How can you be sure of that, sir, if you did not witness the deed +with your own eyes?" + +The Court rapped on the table. + +"This is your own witness, Mr. Prosecutor. Are you trying to +cross-examine him, or to discredit his testimony?" + +"I beg your honour's pardon." + +Kenneth arose. "We will admit that Jasper Suggs came to his death +at the hands of the defendant." + +"In that case," said his gentlemanly adversary, "the State rests." + +"Judge" Billings was heard audibly to remark: "Give 'em an inch +and they take a mile." + +"Order in the court! Call your first witness, Mr. Gwynne." + +"Take this chair, if you please, Miss Hawk. Hold up your right hand +and be sworn. Now, be good enough to answer the questions I put to +you, clearly and distinctly, so that the jury may hear." + +After a few preliminary questions he said: "Now tell the Court and +the jury exactly what happened, beginning with the return of your +father and Jasper Suggs from a trip to town. Don't be afraid, +Miss--er--Moll. Tell the jury, in your own words, just what took +place between the time you first heard Suggs and your father talking +in the cabin and the arrival of the sheriff and his men." + +It lacked just three minutes of ten o'clock when she finished her +story. It had been delivered haltingly and with visible signs of +embarrassment at times, but it was a straightforward, honest recital +of facts. + +"Any questions, Mr. Prosecutor?" + +"None, your honour. The State does not desire to present argument. +It is content to submit its case to the jury without argument, +asking only that a verdict be rendered fairly and squarely upon +the evidence as introduced. All we ask is justice." + +"Any argument, Mr. Gwynne?" + +"None, your honour. The defence is satisfied to leave its case +entirely in the hands of the jury." + +"Gentlemen of the jury," said the Court, glancing at the clock, +"the Court will omit its instructions to you, merely advising you +that if you find the prisoner guilty as charged your verdict must +be murder in the first degree, the penalty for which is death." + +"Judge" Billings leaned over and picked up his hat from the floor. +Then he arose and announced: + +"We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty." + +"Prisoner discharged," said the Court, arising. "The Court desires +to thank the jurors for the close attention you have paid to the +evidence in this case and for the prompt and just verdict you have +returned. Court stands adjourned." + +Later on Moll Hawk walked up the hill with Mrs. Gwyn and Viola. +Very few words had passed between them since they left the curious +but friendly crowd in the public square. Finally Moll's dubious +thoughts found expression in words, breaking in upon the detached +reflections of her two companions. + +"I don't see why they let me off like that, Mis' Gwyn. I killed +him, didn't I?" + +"Yes, Moll,--but the law does not convict a person who kills in +self-defence. Didn't you understand that?" "But supposin' I wuz +starvin' to death an' I stole a ham like Bud Gridley did last fall +when his pa an' ma wuz sick, wouldn't that be self-defence? They put +him in jail fer two months, jest fer stealin' a ham when he hadn't +had nothin' to eat fer three days,--bein' crippled an' couldn't +work. Wuz that fair?" + +"Don't forget, Moll," said Rachel ironically, "that Henry Butts +valued his ham at seventy-five cents." + +"Anyhow, hit don't seem right an' fair," said Moll. "I didn't +have to kill Jasper to save my life. I could ha' saved it without +killin' him." + +"You did perfectly right in killing him, Moll," broke in Viola +warmly. "I would have done the same thing if I had been in your +place." + +Moll thought over this for a few seconds. "Well, maybe you might +have had to do it, Miss Violy, if them fellers had got away with +you as they wuz plannin' to do," she said. + +Silence fell between them again, broken after a while by Moll. +"They'll never ketch Pap," she said. "I guess I'll never lay eyes +on him ag'in. I wuz jest wonderin' what's goin' to become of his +dogs. Do you suppose anybody'll take the trouble to feed 'em?" + +Toby Moxler, Jack Trentman's dealer, accosted Kenneth Gwynne at +the conclusion of the first drill. + +"Jack found this here letter down at the shanty this morning, Mr. +Gwynne. It's addressed to you, so he asked me to hand it to you +when I saw you." + +Kenneth knew at once who the letter was from. He stuck it into his +coat pocket, unopened. + +"Tell Jack that I am very much obliged to him," he said, and walked +away. + +When he was safely out of hearing distance, Toby turned to the man +at his side and remarked: + +"If what Barry Lapelle told me and Jack Trentman yesterday morning +is true, there'll be the doggonedest scandal this town ever heard +of." + +"What did he tell you?" inquired his neighbour eagerly. + +"It's against my principles to talk about women," snapped Toby, +glaring at the man as if deeply insulted. Seeing the disappointment +in the other's face, he softened a little: "'Specially about widders," +he went so far as to explain. "You keep your shirt on, Elmer, and +wait. And when it _does_ come out, you'll be the most surprised +man in town." + +Kenneth did not open Barry's letter until he reached his office. +His face darkened as he read but cleared almost instantly. He even +smiled disdainfully as he tore the sheet into small pieces and +stuffed them into his pocket against the time when he could consign +them to the fire in his kitchen stove. + +"Kenneth Gwynne, Esquire. + +"Sir: Upon receipt of your discurtious and cowardly reply +to my challenge I realized the futility of expecting on your part +an honourable and gentlemanly settlement of our difficulties. My +natural inclination was to seek you out and force you to fight but +advice of friends prevailed. I have decided to make it my business +to verify the story which has come to my ears regarding the Gwynne +and Carter families. In pursuit of this intention I am starting +immediately for your old home town in Kentucky where I am convinced +there still remain a number of people who will be able to give me +all the facts. If I was misled into making statements that were +untrue in my last meeting with your sister I shall most humbly +apologize to her. If on the contrary I find that what I said to +her was true I will make it my business to bring all the facts to +the notice of the people of Lafayette and let them decide what to +do in the matter. In any case I shall return in about a month or +six weeks at which time I shall renew my challenge to you with the +sincere hope that you may accept it and that I may have the belated +pleasure of putting a bullet through your cowardly heart. I must +however in the meantime refuse to sign myself + +"Yours respectfully + +"BARRY LAPELLE." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE TRYSTING PLACE OF THOUGHTS + + +The turmoil and excitement over the Indian outbreak increased during +the day. A constant stream of refugees, mostly old men, women and +children, poured into Lafayette from regions west of the Wabash. +By nightfall fully three hundred of them were being cared for by +the people of the town, and more were coming. Shortly after noon +a mounted scout rode in from Warren County with the word that the +militia of his county was preparing to start off at once to meet +the advancing hordes; he brought in the report that farther north +the frontier was being abandoned by the settlers and that massacres +already had occurred. There was also a well-supported rumour that +a portion of the Illinois militia, some two hundred and fifty men +in all, had been routed on Hickory Creek by Black Hawk's invincible +warriors, with appalling losses to the whites. He bore a stirring +message from his commanding officer, urging the men of Tippecanoe +to rouse themselves and join Warren County troops in an immediate +movement to repel or at least to check the Sacs and Miamis and +Pottawattomies who were swarming over the prairies like locusts. + +The appearance of this messenger, worn and spent after his long +ride, created a profound sensation. Here at last was official +verification of the stories brought in by the panic-stricken +refugees; here was something that caused the whole town suddenly +to awake to the fact that a real menace existed, and that it was +not, after all, another of those rattle-brained "scares" which were +constantly cropping up. + +For months there had been talk of old Black Hawk and his Sacs +going on the warpath over the occupation of their lands in Northern +Illinois by the swift-advancing, ruthless whites. The old Sac, +or Sauk, chieftain had long threatened to resist by force of arms +this violation of the treaty. He had been so long, however, in even +making a start to carry out his threat that the more enlightened +pioneers had ceased to take any stock in his spoutings. + +The Free Press, Lafayette's only newspaper, had from time to time +printed news seeping out of the Northwest by means of carrier or +voyageur; their tales bore out the reports furnished by Federal and +State authorities on the more or less unsettled conditions. There +was, for example, the extremely disquieting story that Black Hawk, +on his return from a hunting trip west of the Mississippi, had +travelled far eastward across Northern Indiana to seek the advice +of the British commander in Canada. Not only was the story of this +pilgrimage true, but the fact was afterward definitely established +that the British official advised the chief to make war on the white +settlers,--this being late in 1831, nearly twenty years after the +close of the War of 1812. Many of Black Hawk's warriors had served +under Tecumseh in the last war with England, and they still were +rabid British sympathizers. + +Amidst the greatest enthusiasm and excitement, the men of Lafayette +organized the "Guards," a company some three hundred strong. After +several days of intensive and, for a time, ludicrous "drilling," +they were ready and eager to ride out into the terrorized Northwest. + +Kenneth Gwynne was a private in "The Guards." + +During the thrilling days of preparation for the expedition, he +saw little of the women next door. Doubtless for reasons of their +own, Viola and her mother maintained a strange and persistent +aloofness. It was not until the evening before the departure of the +"Guards" that he took matters into his own hands and walked over +to Rachel's house. + +The few glimpses he had had of Viola during these busy days and +nights served not only to increase his ardent craving for her but +caused him the most acute misery as well. Utter despond had fallen +upon him. + +It was significant of her new attitude toward life that she had +cast aside the sombre habiliments of mourning. She was now appearing +in bright, though not gay, colours,--unmistakable evidence of her +decision to abandon all pretence of grief for the man she had looked +upon for so many years as her father. + +There was a strange, new vivacity in her manner, too,--something +that hurt rather than cheered him. He heard her singing about the +house,--gay, larksome little snatches,--and she whistled merrily +as she worked in the garden. Somehow her very light-heartedness +added to his despair. What right had she to be happy and gay and +cheerful whilst he was so miserable? Had he not told her in so many +words that he loved her? Did that mean nothing to her? Why should +she sing and whistle in her own domain when she must have known +that he was suffering in his, not twenty rods away? He was conscious +at times of a sense of injury, and as the time drew near for his +departure without so much as a sign of regret or even interest on +her part, this feeling deepened into resentment. + +He was very stiff and formal as he approached the porch on which +Viola and her mother were seated, enjoying the cool evening breeze +that had sprung up at the end of the hot and sultry day. A strange +woman and two small children, refugees from the Grand Prairie, had +been given shelter by Mrs. Gwyn, but they had already gone to bed. + +"We are off at daybreak," he said, standing before them, his hat +in his hand. "I thought I would come over to say good-bye." + +His hungry gaze swept over the figure of the girl, shadowy and +indistinct in the semi-darkness. To his amazement, he saw that she +was attired in the frock she had worn on that unforgettable night +at Striker's. She leaned forward and held out her hand to him. As +he took it he looked up into her dusky face and caught his breath. +Good heaven! She was actually smiling! Smiling when he was going +away perhaps never to return alive! + +She did not speak. It was Rachel Carter who said, quietly: + +"Thank you for coming over, Kenneth. We would not have allowed you +to go, however, without saying good-bye and wishing you well on +this hazardous undertaking. May God protect you and all the brave +men who go out with you." + +He had not released Viola's hand. Suddenly her grip tightened; her +other hand was raised quickly to her face, and he was dumbfounded +to see that she was dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. His +heart swelled. She had been smiling bravely all the while her eyes +were filled with tears. And now he knew why she was silent. He +lifted her hand to his lips. + +"I want you to know, Viola dear, before I go away," he said huskily, +"that I can and will give you back the name of Gwynne, and with +my name I give more love than ever any man had for woman before in +all this world. I lay my heart at your feet. It is yours whether +you choose to pick it up or not." + +She slowly withdrew her hand. Neither of them heard the long, deep +sigh in the darkness beside them. + +"I don't know what to say to you, Kenny," she murmured, almost +inaudibly. + +"There is nothing for you to say, Viola, unless you love me. I am +sorry if I have distressed you. I only wanted you to know before +I go away that I love you." + +"I--I am glad you love me, Kenny. It makes me very happy. But it +is all so strange, so unreal. I can't seem to convince myself that +it is right for you to love me or for me to love you. Some day, +perhaps, it will all straighten itself out in my mind and then I +will know whether it is love,--the kind of love you want,--or just +a dear, sweet affection that I feel for you." + +"I understand," he said gravely. "It is too soon for you to know. +A brother turned into a lover, as if by magic, and you are bewildered. +I can only pray that the time will come when your heart tells you +that you love me as I want you to, and as I love you." + +They spoke thus freely before the girl's mother, for those were +the days when a man's courting was not done surreptitiously. It is +doubtful, however, if they remembered her presence. + +"There have been times--" she began, a trace of eagerness in her +voice, "when something seemed to tell me that--that I ought to keep +away from you. I used to have the queerest sensations running all +over--" She did not complete the sentence; instead, as if in a sudden +panic over the nearness of unmaidenly revelations, she somewhat +breathlessly began all over again: "I guess it must have been a--a +warning, or something." + +"They say there is such a thing as a magnetic current between human +beings," he said. "It was that, Viola. You felt my love laying hold +upon you, touching you, caressing you." + +"The other night, when you held me so close to you, I--I couldn't +think of you as my brother." + +Out of the darkness spoke Rachel Carter. + +"You love each other," she said. "There is no use trying to explain +or account for your feelings. The day you came here, Kenneth Gwynne, +I saw the handwriting on the wall. I knew that this would happen. +It was as certain as the rising of the sun. It would have been as +useless for me to attempt to stop the rising sun as to try to keep +you two from falling in love with each other. It was so written +long ago." + +"But, mother, I am not sure,--how can you say that I am in love +with him when I don't know it myself?" cried Viola. + +"When you came, Kenneth, I knew that my days were numbered," went +on the older woman, leaning forward in her chair. "The truth would +have to come out. A force I could not stand up against had entered +the field. For want of a better word we will call it Fate. It +is useless to fight against Fate. If I had never told you two the +truth about yourselves, you would have found it out anyway. You +would have found it out in the touch of your hands, in the leap +of the blood, in the strange, mysterious desire of the flesh over +which the soul has no control. You began loving him, Viola,--without +knowing it,--that night at Phineas Striker's. You--" + +"How can you say such a thing, mother?" cried Viola hotly. "I was +in love with Barry Lapelle at that--" + +"You were never in love with Barry," broke in her mother calmly. + +"I think I ought to know when I am in love and when I am not!" + +"Be that as it may, you now know that you were never in love with +him,--so it comes to the same thing." + +Kenneth's heart gave a joyous bound. "I--I wish I could believe +that. I wish I knew that you are not thinking of him now, Viola, +and wanting him back in spite of all he has done." + +Viola arose suddenly. "I am going in the house," she said haughtily. +"Neither of you seems to think I have a grain of sense. First mother +says I am in love with you without knowing it, and now you are +wondering if I am in love with Barry without knowing it, I suppose. +Don't you give me credit for having a mind of my own? And, mother, +I've just got to say it, even if it is insolent,--I will be very +much obliged to you if you will allow me to make up my own mind +about Kenny. It is not for you or anybody else to say I am in love +with him." + +"Oh, don't go away angry, Viola," cried Kenneth, distressed. "Let's +forget all we've said and--" + +"I don't want to forget all we've said," she exclaimed, stamping +her foot. "How dare you come over here and tell me you love me and +then ask me to forget--Oh, if that's all it amounts to with you, +Kenneth, I dare say I can make up my mind right now. I--" + +"You will find, Kenneth," broke in her mother drily, "that she has +a temper." + +"I guess he has found that out before this," said Viola, from the +doorstep. "He has had a taste of it. If he doesn't like--" + +"I am used to tempers," said he, now lightly. "I have a devil of +a temper myself." + +"I don't believe it," she cried. "You've got the kindest, sweetest, +gentlest nature I've ever--" + +"Come and sit down, Viola," interrupted her mother, arising. "I am +going in the house myself." + +"You needn't, mother. I am going to bed. Good night, Kenny." + +"I came to say good-bye," he reminded her. + +She paused with her hand on the latch. He heard the little catch +in her breath. Then she turned impulsively and came back to him. +He was still standing on the ground, several feet below her. + +"What a beast I am, Kenny," she murmured contritely. "I waited out +here all evening for you to come over so that I could say good-bye +and tell you how much I shall miss you,--and to wish you a speedy +and safe return. And you paid me a great compliment,--the greatest +a girl can have. I don't deserve it. But I will miss you, Kenny,--I +will miss you terribly. Now, I MUST go in. If I stay another second +longer I'll say something mean and spiteful,--because I AM mean and +spiteful, and no one knows it better than I do. Good-bye, Kenneth +Gwynne." + +"Good-bye, Minda Carter," he said softly, and again raised her hand +to his lips. "My little Minda grown up to be the most beautiful +queen in all the world." + +She turned and fled swiftly into the house. They heard her go racing +up the stairs,--then a door open and slam shut again. + +"She would be very happy to-night, Kenneth, if it were not for one +thing," said Rachel. "I still stand in the way. She cannot give +herself to you except at a cost to me. There can be nothing between +you until I stand before the world and say there is no reason why +you should not be married to each other. Do you wonder that she +does not know her own heart?" + +"And I would not deserve her love and trust if I were to ask you +to pay that price, Rachel Carter," said he steadily. + +"Good-bye, Kenneth," she said, after a moment. She held out her +hand. "Will you take my hand,--just this once, boy?" + +He did not hesitate. He grasped the hard, toil-worn hand firmly in +his. + +"We can never be friends, Rachel Carter,--but, as God is my witness, +I am no longer your enemy," he said, with feeling. "Good-bye." + +He was half-way down to the gate when she called to him: + +"Wait, Kenneth. Moll has something for you." + +He turned back and met Moll Hawk as she came swiftly toward him. + +"Here's somethin' fer you to carry in your pocket, Mr. Gwynne," +said the girl in her hoarse, low-pitched voice. "No harm c'n ever +come to you as long as you got this with you,--in your pocket er +anywheres. Hit's a charm an old Injin chief give my Pap when he +wuz with the tribe, long before I wuz born. Pap lost it the day +before he wuz tooken up by the sheriff, er else he never would ha' +had setch bad luck. I found it day before yesterday when I wuz down +to the cabin, seein' about movin' our hogs an' chickens an' hosses +over to Mis' Gwyn's barn. The only reason the Injun give it to Pap +wuz because he wuz over a hundred years old an' didn't want to warn +off death no longer. Hit's just a little round stone with somethin' +fer all the world like eyes an' nose an' mouth on one side of +it,--jest as if hit had been carved out, only hit wuzn't. Hit's +jest natural. Hit keeps off sickness an' death an' bad luck, Mr. +Gwynne. Pap knowed he wuz goin' to ketch the devil the minute he +found out he lost it. I tole Miss Violy I wanted fer you to have +it with you while you wuz off fightin' the Injuns, an' she said +she'd love me to her dyin' day if I would give you the loan of it. +Mebby you don't believe in charms an' signs an' all setch, but it +can't hurt you to carry it an'--an' hit's best to be on the safe +side. Please keep it, Mr. Gwynne." + +It was a round object no bigger than a hickory nut. He had taken it +from her and was running his thumb over its surface while she was +speaking. He could feel the tiny nose and the little indentations +that produced the effect of eyes. + +"Thank you, Moll," he said, sincerely touched. "It's mighty good +of you. I will bring it back to you, never fear, and I hope that +after it has served me faithfully for a little while it may do the +same for you till you, too, have seen a hundred and don't want to +live any longer. What was it Miss Viola said to you?" + +"I guess I hadn't ought to said that," she mumbled. "Anyhow, I +ain't goin' to say it over again. Good-bye, Mr. Gwynne,--and take +good keer o' yourself." + +With that she hurried back to the house, and he, after a glance up +at the second story window which he knew to be Viola's, bent his +steps homeward. + +His saddle-bags were already packed, his pistols cleaned and oiled; +the long-barrelled rifle he had borrowed from the tavern keeper +was in prime order for the expedition. Zachariah had gotten out +his oldest clothes, his thick riding boots, a linsey shirt and the +rough but serviceable buckskin cap that old Mr. Price had hobbled +over to the office to give him after the first day of drill with +the sententious remark that a "plug hat was a perty thing to perade +around in but it wasn't a very handy sort of a hat to be buried +in." + +His lamp burned far into the night. He tried to read but his thoughts +would not stay fixed on the printed page. Not once but many times +he took up from the table a short, legal-looking document and re-read +its contents, which were entirely in his own cramped, scholastic +hand save for the names of two witnesses at the end. It was his +last will and testament, drawn up that very day. Minda Carter was +named therein as his sole legatee,--"Minda Carter, at present known +as Viola Gwyn, the daughter of Owen and Rachel Carter." His father +had, to all intents and purposes, cut her off without a penny, an +injustice which would be righted in case of his own death. + +It was near midnight when he blew out the light and threw himself +fully dressed upon the bed. Sleep would not come. At last, in +desperation, he got up and stole guiltily, self-consciously out +into the yard, treading softly lest he should wake the vehement +Zachariah in his cubbyhole off the kitchen. Presently he was +standing at the fence separating the two yards, his elbows on the +top rail, his gloomy, lovelorn gaze fixed upon Viola's darkened +window. + +The stars were shining. A cool, murky mantle lay over the land. +He did not know how long he had been standing there when his ear +caught the sound of a gently-closing door. A moment later a dim, +shadowy figure appeared at the corner of the house, stood motionless +for a few seconds, and then came directly toward him. The blood +rushed thunderously to his head. He could not believe his senses. +He had been wishing--aye, vainly wishing that by some marvellous +enchantment she could be transported through the dark little window +into his arms. He rubbed his eyes. + +"Viola!" he whispered. + +"Oh, Kenny," she faltered, and her voice was low and soft like the +sighing of the wind. "I--I am so ashamed. What will you think of +me for coming out here like this?" + +The god of Love gave him wings. He was over the fence, she was in +his arms, and he was straining the warm, pliant body close to his +bursting breast. His lips were on hers. He felt her stiffen and +then relax in swift surrender. Her heart, stilled at first, began +to beat tumultuously against his breast; her free arm stole about +his neck and tightened as the urge of a sweet, overwhelming passion +swept over her. + +At last she released herself from his embrace and stood with bowed +head, her hands pressed to her eyes. + +"I didn't mean to do it,--I didn't mean to do this," she was +murmuring. + +"You love me,--you love me," he whispered, his voice trembling with +joy. He drew her hands down from her eyes and held them tight in +his own. "Say you do, Viola,--speak the words." + +"It must be love," she sighed. "What else could make me feel +as I do now,--as I did when you were holding me,--and kissing me? +Oh,--oh,--yes, I DO love you, Kenny. I know it now. I love you with +all my soul." She was in his arms again. "But," she panted a little +later, "I swear I didn't know it when I came out here, Kenny,--I +swear I didn't." + +"Oh, yes, you did," he cried triumphantly. "You've known it all +the time, only you didn't understand." + +"I wonder," she mused. Then quickly, shyly: "I had no idea it could +come like this,--that it would BE like this. I feel so queer. My +knees are all trembly,--it's the strangest feeling. Now you must +let me go, Kenny. I must not stay out here with you. It is terribly +late. I--" + +"I can't let you go in yet, dearest. Come! We will sit for a +little while on the steps. Don't leave me yet, Viola. It is all so +wonderful, so unbelievable. And to think I was looking up at your +window only a few minutes ago, wishing that you would fly down to +me. Good heavens! It can't be a dream, can it? All this is real, +isn't it?" She laughed softly. "It can't be a dream with me, +because I haven't even been in bed. I've been sitting up there in +my window for hours, looking over at your house. When your light +went out, I was terribly lonely. Yes, and I was a little put out +with you for going to bed. Then I saw you come and lean on the +fence. I knew you were looking up at my window,--and I was sure that +you could see me in spite of the darkness. You never moved,--just +stood there with your elbows on the fence, staring up at me. It +made me very uncomfortable, because I was in my nightgown. So I +made up my mind to get into bed and pull the coverlet up over my +head. But I didn't do it. I put on my dress,--everything,--shoes +and stockings and all,--and then I went back to see if you were +still there. There you were. You hadn't moved. So I sat down again +and watched you. After awhile I--I--well, I just couldn't help +creeping downstairs and coming out to--to say good-bye to you again, +Kenny. You looked so lonesome." + +"I was lonesome," he said,--"terribly lonesome." + +She led him to a crudely constructed bench at the foot of a towering +elm whose lower branches swept the fore-corner of the roof. + +"Let us sit here, Kenny dear," she said. "It is where I shall come +and sit every night while you are gone away. I shall sit with my +back against it and close my eyes and dream that you are beside +me as you are now, with your arms around me and your cheek against +mine,--and it will be the trysting place for our thoughts." + +"That's wonderful, Viola," he said, impressed. "'The trysting +place for our thoughts.' Aye, and that it shall be. Every night, +no matter where my body may be or what peril it may be in, I shall +be here beside you in my thoughts." + +She rested against him, in the crook of his strong right arm, her +head against his shoulder, and they both fell silent and pensive +under the spell of a wondrous enchantment. + +After a while, she spoke, and there was a note of despair in her +voice: + +"What is to become of us, Kenny? What are we to do?" + +"No power on earth can take you away from me now, Minda," he said. + +"Ah,--that's it," she said miserably. "You call me Minda,--and +still you wonder why I ask what we are to do." + +"You mean--about--" + +"We can be nothing more to each other than we are now. There is +some one else we must think of. I--I forgot her for a little while, +Kenny,--I was so happy that I forgot her." + +"Were ever two souls so tried as ours," he groaned, and again +silence fell between them. + +Kneeling at the window from which Viola had peered so short a time +before, looking down upon the figures under the tree, was Rachel +Carter. She could hear their low voices, and her ears, made sharp +by pain, caught the rapturous and the forlorn passages breathed +upon the still air. + +She arose stiffly and drew back into the darkness, out of the +dim, starlit path, and standing there with her head high, her arms +outspread, she made her solemn vow of self-renunciation. + +"I have no right to stand between them and happiness. They have +done no wrong. They do not deserve to be punished. My mind is made +up. To-morrow I shall speak. God has brought them together. It is +not for me to keep them apart. Aye, to-morrow I shall speak." + +Then Rachel Carter, at peace with herself, went back to her bed +across the hall and was soon asleep, a smile upon her lips, the +creases wiped from between her eyes as if by some magic soothing +hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE ENDING + + +At crack-o'-day Kenneth rode out of his stable-yard on Brandy Boy, +and went cantering away, followed on foot by the excited Zachariah, +bound for the parade ground where the "soldiers" were to concentrate. + +The rider turned in his saddle to wave farewell to the little group +huddled at Rachel's gate,--three tall women who waved back to him. +Rounding the bend, he sent a swift glance over his shoulder. There +was but one figure at the gate now; she blew a kiss to him. + +Nearly three hundred horsemen moved out of Lafayette that forenoon +amidst the greatest excitement and enthusiasm. Most of them swam +their horses across the river, too eager to wait for the snail-like +ferry to transport them to the opposite bank. They were fearfully +and wonderfully armed and equipped for the expedition. Guns of all +descriptions and ages; pistols, axes, knives and diligently scoured +swords; pots and pans and kettles; blankets, knapsacks and parcels +of varying sizes; in all a strange and motley assortment that would +have caused a troop of regulars to die of laughter. But the valiant +spirit was there. Even the provident and far-sighted gentlemen who +strapped cumbersome and in some cases voluptuous umbrellas (because +of their extraneous contents) across their backs alongside the +guns, were no more timorous than their swashbuckling neighbours +who scorned the tempest even as they scoffed at the bloodthirsty +red-skins. Four heavily laden wagons brought up the rear. + +Kenneth Gwynne rode beside the ubiquitous "Judge" Billings, who +cheerfully and persuasively sought to "swap" horses with him when +not otherwise employed in discoursing upon the vast inefficiency +of certain specifically named officers who rode in all their plump +glory at or near the head of the column. He was particularly out +of sympathy with a loud-mouthed lieutenant. + +"Why," said he, "if the captain was to say 'halt' suddenly that +feller'd lose his mind tryin' to think what to do. No more head +on him than a grasshopper. And him up there givin' orders to a lot +of bright fellers like you an' me an' the rest of us! By gosh, I'd +like to be hidin' around where I could see the look on the Indian's +face that scalps him. The minute he got through scrapin' a little +hide an' hair off of the top o' that feller's head he'd be able to +see clear down to the back of his Adam's Apple." + +Historians have recorded the experiences and achievements of this +gallant troop of horse. It is not the intention of the present +chronicler to digress. Suffice to say, the expedition moved sturdily +westward and northward for five or six days without encountering +a single Indian. Then they were ordered to return home. There were +two casualties. One man was accidentally shot in the arm while +cleaning his own rifle, and another was shot in the foot by a comrade +who was aiming at a rattlesnake. Nine or ten days after they rode +out from Lafayette, the majority of the company rode back again +and were received with acclaim. Two score of the more adventurous, +however, separated from the main body on Sugar Creek and, electing +their own officers, proceeded to Hickory Creek and on to the River +O'Plein in Northern Illinois, without finding a hostile redskin. + +As a matter of fact, Black Hawk was at no time near the Indiana +border. His operations were confined to Northwestern Illinois in the +region of the Mississippi River. Subsequently a series of sanguinary +battles took place between the Indians and strong Illinois militia +forces supported by detachments of United States troops under +General Brady. It was not until the beginning of August that Black +Hawk was finally defeated, his dwindling horde almost annihilated, +and the old chieftain, betrayed into the hands of the whites +by the Winnebagos, was made a prisoner of war. And so, summarily, +the present chronicler disposes of the "great Black Hawk war," and +returns to his narrative and the people related thereto. + +Kenneth Gwynne did not go back to Lafayette with the main body of +troops; he decided to join Captain McGeorge and his undaunted little +band of adventurers. Gwynne's purpose in remaining with McGeorge +was twofold. Not only was he keenly eager to meet the Indians but +somewhere back in his mind was the struggling hope that, given +time, Rachel Carter's reserve would crack under the fresh strain +put upon it and she would voluntarily, openly break the silence that +now stood as an absolutely insurmountable obstacle to his marriage +with Viola. Not until Rachel Carter herself cleared the path could +they find the way to happiness. + +He would have been amazed, even shocked, could he have known all +that transpired in Lafayette on the day following his departure. +He was not to know for many a day, as it was nearly three weeks +after the return of the main body of troops that McGeorge and his +little band rode wearily down through the Grand Prairie and entered +the town, their approach being heralded by a scout sent on in +advance. + +Kenneth searched eagerly among the crowd on the river bank, seeking +the face that had haunted him throughout all the irksome days and +nights; he looked for the beloved one to whom his thoughts had +sped each night for communion at the foot of the blessed elm. She +was nowhere to be seen. He was bitterly disappointed. As soon as +possible he escaped from his comrades and hurried home. There he +learned from Rachel Carter herself that Viola had gone away, never +to return to Lafayette again. + +Mid-morning on the day after the troops rode away, Rachel Carter +appeared at the office of her lawyer, Andrew Holman. There, in the +course of the next hour, she calmly, unreservedly bared the whole +story of her life to the astonished and incredulous gentleman. + +She did not consult with her daughter before taking this irrevocable +step. She put it beyond her daughter's power to shake the resolution +she had made on the eve of Kenneth's departure; she knew that +Viola would cry out against the sacrifice and she was sorely afraid +of her own strength in the presence of her daughter's anguish. "I +shall put it all in the paper," she said, regarding the distressed, +perspiring face of the lawyer with a grim, almost taunting smile, +as if she actually relished his consternation. "What I want you +to do, first off, Andrew, is to prepare some sort of affidavit, +setting forth the facts, which I will sign and swear to. It needn't +be a long document. The shorter the better, just so it makes +everything clear." + +"But, my dear Mrs. Gwyn, this--this may dispossess you of everything," +remonstrated the agitated man of law. "The fact that you were never +the wife of Robert--" + +"Your memory needs refreshing," she interrupted. "If you will +consult Robert Gwyn's will you will discover that he leaves half +of his estate, et cetera, to 'my beloved and faithful companion +and helpmate, Rachel, who, with me, has assumed the name of Gwyn +for the rest of her life in view of certain circumstances which +render the change in the spelling of my name advisable, notwithstanding +the fact that in signing this, my last will and testament, I recognize +the necessity of affixing my true and legal name.' You and I know +the sentence by heart, Andrew. No one can or will dispute my claim +to the property. I have thought this all out, you may be sure,--just +as he thought it all out when he drew up the paper. I imagine he +must have spent a great deal of time and thought over that sentence, +and I doubt if you or any other lawyer could have worded it better." + +"Of course, if the will reads as you say,--er,--ahem! Yes, yes,--I +remember now that it was a--er--somewhat ambiguous. Ahem! But it +has just occurred to me, Mrs. Gwyn, that you are going a little +farther than is really necessary in the matter. May I suggest that +you are not--er--obliged to reveal the fact that you were never +married to him? That, it seems to me, is quite unnecessary. If, +as you say, your object is merely to set matters straight so that +your daughter and Mr. Gwynne may be free to marry, being in no +sense related either by blood or by law,--such as would have been +the case if you had married Kenneth's father,--why, it seems to me +you can avoid a great deal of unpleasant notoriety by--er--leaving +out that particular admission." + +"No," she said firmly. "Thank you for your kind advice,--but, if +you will reflect, it is out of the question. You forget what you +have just said. For a lawyer, my dear friend, you are surprisingly +simple to-day." + +"I see,--I see," mumbled the lawyer, mopping his brow. "Of +course,--er,--you are quite right. You are a very level-headed +woman. Quite so. I would have thought of it in another moment or +two. You can't leave out that part of it without--er--nullifying +the whole object and intent of your--er--ahem!--I was about to +say confession, but that is a nasty word. In other words, unless +you acknowledge that you and Robert were never lawfully married, +the--er--" + +"Exactly," she broke in crisply. "That is the gist of the matter. +Society does not countenance marriage between step-brother +and -sister. So we will tell the whole truth,--or nothing at all. +Besides, Robert Gwyn put the whole story in writing himself, as +I have told you. The hiding-place of that piece of paper is still +a mystery, but it will be found some day. I am trying to take the +curse off of it, Andrew." + +As she was leaving the office, he said to her, with deep feeling: +"I suppose you realize the consequences, Mrs. Gwyn? It means +ostracism for you. You will not have a friend in this town,--not +a person who will speak to you, aside from the storekeepers who +value your custom and"--he bowed deeply--"your humble servant." + +"I fully appreciate what it means," she responded wearily. "It means +that if I continue to hold my head up or dare to look my neighbour +in the face I shall be called brazen as well as corrupt," she went +on after a moment, a sardonic little twist at the corner of her +mouth. "Well, so be it. I have thought of all that. Have no fear +for me, my friend. I have never been afraid of the dark,--so why +should I fear the light?" + +"You're a mighty fine woman, Rachel Gwyn," cried the lawyer warmly. + +She frowned as she held out her hand. "None of that, if you please," +she remarked tersely. "Will you have the paper ready for me to sign +this afternoon?" + +"I will submit it to you right after dinner." + +"You may expect me here at two o'clock. We will then step over to +the Free Press and allow Mr. Semans to copy the document for his +paper." She allowed herself a faint smile. "I daresay he can make +room for it, even if he has to subtract a little from his account +of the stirring events of yesterday." + +"Your story will make a great sensation," declared the lawyer, wiping +his brow once more. "He can't afford to--er--to leave it out." + +At two o'clock she was in his office again. He read the carefully +prepared document to her. + +"This is like signing your own death warrant, Rachel Gwyn," he +said painfully, as she affixed her signature and held up her hand +to be sworn. + +"No. I am signing a pardon for two guiltless people who are suffering +for the sins of others." + +"That reminds me," he began, pursing his lips. "I have been reflecting +during your absence. Has it occurred to you that this act of yours +is certain to react with grave consequences upon the very people +you would--er--befriend? I am forced to remind you that the finger +of scorn will not be pointed at you alone. Your daughter will not +escape the--er--ignominy of being--ahem!--of being your daughter, +in fact. Young Gwynne will find his position here very greatly +affected by the--er--" + +"I quite understand all that, Andrew. I am not thinking of the +present so much as I am considering the future. The past, so far +as we all are concerned, is easily disposed of, but these two young +people have a long life ahead of them. It is not my idea that they +shall spend it here in this town,--or even in this State." + +"You mean you will urge them to leave Lafayette forever?" + +"Certainly." + +"But if I know Viola,--and I think I do,--she will refuse to desert +you. As for Gwynne, he strikes me as a fellow who would not turn +tail under fire." + +"In any case, Andrew, it will be for them to decide. Kenneth had +already established himself as a lawyer back in the old home town. I +shall urge him to return to that place with Viola as soon as they +are married. His mother was a Blythe. There is no blot upon the name +of Blythe. My daughter was born there. Her father was an honest, +God-fearing, highly respected man. His name and his memory are +untarnished. No man can say aught against the half of Kenneth that +is Blythe, nor the half of Viola that is Carter. I should like the +daughter of Owen Carter to go back and live among his people as the +wife of the son of Laura Blythe, and to honourably bear the name +that was denied me by a Gwynne." + +He looked at her shrewdly for a moment and then, as the full +significance of her plan grew upon him, revealing in a flash the +motive behind it, he exclaimed: + +"Well, by gosh, you certainly have done an almighty lot of +calculating." + +"And why shouldn't I? She is my child. Is it likely that I would +give myself the worst of everything without seeing to it that she +gets the best of everything? No, my friend; you must not underrate +my intelligence. I will speak plainly to you,--but in confidence. +This is between you and me. There is no love lost between Kenneth +Gwynne and me. He hates me and always will, no matter how hard he +may try to overcome it. In a different way I hate him. We must not +be where we can see each other. I am sorely afraid that the tender +love he now has for Viola would fail to outlast the hatred he feels +toward me. I leave you to imagine what that would mean to her. He +has it in his power to give her a place among his people. He can +force them to honour and respect her, and her children will be +THEIR children. Do you see? Need I say more?" + +"You need say nothing more. I understand what you want, Mrs. +Gwyn,--and I must say that you are in a sense justified. What is +to become of young Gwynne's property here in this county?" + +"I think I can be trusted to look after it satisfactorily," she +said quietly; "perhaps even better than he could do for himself. +I am a farm woman." + +"I thought maybe you had some notion of buying him out." + +"He would not sell to me. His farm is being properly handled by +the present tenant. His lots here in town cannot run away. The time +will come when they will be very valuable, or I am no prophetess. +There is nothing to keep him here, Andrew, and his interests and +my daughter's will be as carefully looked after as my own." + +"We will be sorry to lose him as a citizen." + +"If you are ready, we will step over to the Free Press office," +she said, without a sign that she had heard his remark. + +They crossed the square and turned up the first street to the +left. "This will be a terrible shock to your daughter," said he, +breaking a long silence. + +"She will survive it," replied Rachel Gwyn sententiously. + +He laid his hand on her arm. "Will you accept a bit of advice from +me?" + +They stopped. "I am not above listening to it," she replied. + +"My advice is to postpone this action until you are sure of one +thing." + +"And what may that be?" + +"Kenneth Gwynne's safe return from this foray against the Indians. +He may not come back alive." + +"He will come back alive," said she, in a cool, matter-of-fact tone. +"It is so ordained. I know. Come, we are wasting time. I have much +to do between now and nightfall. Bright and early to-morrow morning +my daughter and I are leaving town." + +"Leaving town?" he cried, astonished. + +"I am taking her out in the country,--to the farm. If I can prevent +it she shall never put foot in this town again. You know Phineas +Striker? An honest, loyal man, with a wife as good as gold. When +Kenneth Gwynne marches back to town again he will find me here to +greet him. I will tell him where to find Viola. Out at Striker's +farm, my friend, she will be waiting for him to come and claim his +own." + +A smile he did not understand and never was to understand played +about her lips as she continued drily, for such was the manner of +this amazing woman: + +"He will even find that her wedding gown is quite as much to his +fancy as it was the day he met her." + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Viola Gwyn, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIOLA GWYN *** + +***** This file should be named 6013.txt or 6013.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/1/6013/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +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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